Army life in a black regiment

S. G. & E. L. ELBERT

Cthnmi of

Jlrrsritlfil bu ELLA SMITH ELBERT »88

Jhx itttmnrmut.

XV KATHARIKE 1. CQMAH

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

OUT-DOOR PAPERS.

1vol. 16mo. Cloth, $1.50.
CONTENTS.

Saints and their Bodies.

Physical Courage.

A Letter to a Dyspeptic.

The Murder of the Innocents.

Barbarism and Civilization.

Gymnastics.

A New Counterblast.

The Health of our Girls.

April Days.

My Out-Door Study.

Water -Lilies.

The Life of Birds.

The Procession of the Flowers.

Snow.

MALBONE:

AN OLDPORT ROMANCE.

1 vol. 16mo. Cloth, $1.50.

FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO., Publishers.

ARMY LIFE

A BLACK REGIMENT.

BT S

THOMAS WJhlNT WORTH HIG-G-ESTSON,

Late Colonel 1st South Carolina Volunteers.

BOSTON:
FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO.
1870.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by
FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO.,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co.,
Cambridge.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Page

Introductory 1

CHAPTER II.
Camp Diary 6

CHAPTER III.
Up the St. Mary's .62

CHAPTER IV.

Up the St. John's 97

CHAPTER V.
Out on Picket 130

CHAPTER VI.
A Night in the Water 152

CHAPTER VII.
Up the Edisto . 167

CHAPTER VIII
The Baby of the Regiment 185

iv CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IX.
Negro Spirituals * .197

CHAPTER X.
Life at Camp Shaw 223

CHAPTER XI.
Florida Again? ....... 234

CHAPTER XII.
The Negro as a Soldier 243

CHAPTER XIII.
Conclusion 264

APPENDIX.

A. Roster of Officers . . . . . ■ . . 269

B. The First Black Soldiers 272

C. General Saxton's Instructions . 278

D. The Struggle for Pay 280

E. Farewell Address 292

INDEX. . . . . , . .. . . . 295

AMY LIFE IX A BLACK REGIMENT.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.

THESE pages record some of the adventures of the
First South Carolina Volunteers, — the first slave
regiment mustered into the service of the United States
during the late civil war. It was, indeed, the first col-
ored regiment of any kind so mustered, except a portion
of the troops raised by Major-General Butler at New
Orleans. These scarcely belonged to the same class,
however, being recruited from the free colored popula-
tion of that city, a comparatively self-reliant and educated
race. " The darkest of them," said General Butler,
" were about the complexion of the late Mr. Webster."

The First South Carolina, on the other hand, con-
tained scarcely a freeman, had not one mulatto in ten,
and a far smaller proportion who could read or write
when enlisted. The only contemporary regiment of a
similar character was the " First Kansas Colored,"
which began recruiting a little earlier, though it was not
mustered in — the usual basis of military seniority —
till later.* These were the only colored regiments
recruited during the year 1862. The Second South
Carolina and the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts followed
early in 1863.

* See Appendix.

1* A

2

INTRODUCTORY.

This is the way in which I came to the command of
this regiment. One day in November, 1862, 1 was sitting
at dinner with my lieutenants, John Goodell and Luther
Bigelow, in the barracks of the Fifty-First Massa-
chusetts, Colonel Sprague, when the following letter
was put into my hands : —

Beaufort, S. C, November 5, 1862.
My dear Sir, — I am organizing the First Regi-
ment of South Carolina Volunteers, with every prospect
of success. Your name has been spoken of, in connec-
tion with the command of this regiment, by some friends
in whose judgment I have confidence. I take great
pleasure in offering you the position of Colonel in it, and
hope that you may be induced to accept. I shall not
fill the place until I hear from you, or sufficient time
shall have passed for me to receive your reply. Should
you accept, I enclose a pass for Port Royal, of which I
trust you will feel disposed to avail yourself at once.
I am, with sincere regard, yours truly,

R. Saxton,

Brig.-Genl, Mil. Gov.

Had an invitation reached me to take command of a
regiment of Kalmuck Tartars, it could hardly have been
more unexpected. I had always looked for the arming
of the blacks, and had always felt a wish to be associated
with them ; had read the scanty accounts of General
Hunter's abortive regiment, and had heard rumors of
General Saxton's renewed efforts. But the prevalent
tone of public sentiment was still opposed to any such
attempts ; the government kept very shy of the experi-
ment, and it did not seem possible that the time had
come when it could be fairly tried.

For myself, I was at the head of a fine company
of my own raising, and in a regiment to which I was
already much attached. It did not seem desirable to

INTRODUCTORY.

3

exchange a certainty for an uncertainty ; for who knew
but General Saxton might yet be thwarted in his efforts
by the pro-slavery influence that had still so much weight
at head-quarters ? It would be intolerable to go out to
South Carolina, and find myself, after all, at the head of
a mere plantation-guard or a day-school in uniform.

I therefore obtained from the War Department,
through Governor Andrew, permission to go and report
to General Saxton, without at once resigning my cap-
taincy. Fortunately it took but a few days in South
Carolina to make it clear that all was right, and the
return steamer took back a resignation of a Massachu-
setts commission. Thenceforth my lot was cast alto-
gether with the black troops, except when regiments or
detachments of white soldiers were also under my com-
mand, during the two years following.

These details would not be worth mentioning except
as they show this fact : that I did not seek the command
of colored troops, but it sought me. And this fact again
is only important to my story for this reason, that under
these circumstances I naturally viewed the new recruits
rather as subjects for discipline than for philanthropy.
I had been expecting a war for six years, ever since the
Kansas troubles, and my mind had dwelt on military
matters more or less during all that time. The best Mas-
sachusetts regiments already exhibited a high standard
of drill and discipline, and unless these men could be
brought tolerably near that standard, the fact of their
extreme blackness would afford me, even as a philanthro-
pist, no satisfaction. Fortunately, I felt perfect confi-
dence that they could be so trained, — having happily
known, by experience, the qualities of their race, and
knowing also that they had home and household and

4

INTRODUCTORY.

freedom to fight for, besides that abstraction of " the
Union." Trouble might perhaps be expected from white
officials, though this turned out far less than might have
been feared ; but there was no trouble to come from the
men, I thought, and none ever came. On the other
hand, it was a vast experiment of indirect philanthropy,
and one on which the result of the war and the destiny
of the negro race might rest ; and this was enough to
tax all one's powers. I had been an abolitionist too
long, and had known and loved John Brown too well,
not to feel a thrill of joy at last on finding myself in the
position where he only wished to be.

In view of all this, it was clear that good discipline
must come first ; after that, of course, the men must be
helped and elevated in all ways as much as possible.

Of discipline there was great need, — that is, of order
and regular instruction. Some of the men had already
been under fire, but they were very ignorant of drill and
camp duty. The officers, being appointed from a dozen
different States, and more than as many regiments, —
infantry, cavalry, artillery, and engineers, — had all that
diversity of methods which so confused our army in
those early days. The first need, therefore, was of an
unbroken interval of training. During this period, which
fortunately lasted nearly two months, I rarely left the
camp, and got occasional leisure moments for a frag-
mentary journal, to send home, recording the many odd
or novel aspects of the new experience. Camp-life was
a wonderfully strange sensation to almost all volunteer
officers, and mine lay among eight hundred men sud-
denly transformed from slaves into soldiers, and repre-
senting a race affectionate, enthusiastic, grotesque, and
dramatic beyond all others. Being such, they naturally

INTRODUCTORY.

5

gave material for description. There is nothing like a
diary for freshness, — at least so I think, — and I shall
keep to the diary through the days of camp-life, and
throw the later experience into another form. Indeed,
that matter takes care of itself ; diaries and letter-writing
stop when field-service begins.

I am under pretty heavy bonds to tell the truth, and
only the truth ; for those who look back to the news-
paper correspondence of that period will see that this par-
ticular regiment lived for months in a glare of publicity,
such as tests any regiment severely, and certainly pre-
vents all subsequent romancing in its historian. As the
scene of the only effort on the Atlantic coast to arm the
negro, our camp attracted a continuous stream of visitors,
military and civil. A battalion of black soldiers, a spec-
tacle since so common, seemed then the most daring of
innovations, and the whole demeanor of this particular
regiment was watched with microscopic scrutiny by
friends and foes. I felt sometimes as if we were a plant
trying to take root, but constantly pulled up to see if we
were growing. The slightest camp incidents sometimes
came back to us, magnified and distorted, in letters of
anxious inquiry from remote parts of the Union. It was
no pleasant thing to live under such constant surveillance ;
but it guaranteed the honesty of any success, while fear-
fully multiplying the penalties had there been a failure.
A single mutiny, — such as has happened in the infancy
of a hundred regiments, — a single miniature Bull Run,
a stampede of desertions, and it would have been all
over with us ; the party of distrust would have got ti e
upper hand, and there might not have been, during the
whole contest, another effort to arm the negro.

I may now proceed, without farther preparation, to
the Diary.

6

CAMP DIARY.

CHAPTER II,

CAMP DIARY.

Camp Saxton, near Beaufort, S. C,
November 24, 1862.

ESTERDAY afternoon we were steaming over a

A summer sea, the deck level as a parlor-floor, no land
in sight, no sail, until at last appeared one light-house, said
to be Cape Romaine, and then a line of trees and two dis-
tant vessels and nothing more. The sun set, a great illu-
minated bubble, submerged in one vast bank of rosy
suffusion ; it grew dark ; after tea all were on deck, the
people sang hymns ; then the moon set, a moon two days
old, a curved pencil of light, reclining backwards on a
radiant couch which seemed to rise from the waves to
receive it ; it sank slowly, and the last tip wavered and
went down like the mast of a vessel of the skies. To-
wards morning the boat stopped, and when I came on
deck, before six, —

Hilton Head lay on one side, the gunboats on the
other ; all that was raw and bare in the low buildings of
the new settlement was softened into picturesqueness by
the early light. Stars were still overhead, gulls wheeled
and shrieked, and the broad river rippled duskily towards
Beaufort.

The shores were low and wooded, like any New Eng-
land shore ; there were a few gunboats, twenty schooners,
and some steamers, among them the famous " Planter,"

The watch-1 ights glittered on the land,
The ship-lights on the sea."

CAMP DIARY.

7

which Robert Small, the slave, presented to the nation.
The river-banks were soft and graceful, though low, and
as we steamed up to Beaufort on the flood-tide this
morning, it seemed almost as fair as the smooth and
lovely canals which Stedman traversed to meet his negro
soldiers in Surinam. The air was cool as at home, yet
the foliage seemed green, glimpses of stiff tropical vege-
tation appeared along the banks, with great clumps of
shrubs, whose pale seed-vessels looked like tardy blos-
soms. Then we saw on a picturesque point an old plan-
tation, with stately magnolia avenue, decaying house,
and tiny church amid the woods, reminding me of Vir-
ginia ; behind it stood a neat encampment of white tents,
" and there," said my companion, " is your future regi-
ment."

Three miles farther brought us to the pretty town of
Beaufort, with its stately houses amid Southern foliage.
Reporting to General Saxton, I had the luck to encoun-
ter a company of my destined command, marched in to
be mustered into the United States service. They were
unarmed, and all looked as thoroughly black as the
most faithful philanthropist could desire ; there did not
seem to be so much as a mulatto among them. Their
coloring suited me, all but the legs, which were clad in a
lively scarlet, as intolerable to my eyes as if I had been
a turkey. I saw them mustered ; General Saxton talked
to them a little, in his direct, manly way ; they gave
close attention, though their faces looked impenetrable.
Then I conversed with some of them. The first to whom
I spoke had been wounded in a small expedition after
lumber, from which a party had just returned, and in
which they had been under fire and had done very well.
I said, pointing to his lame arm, —

8

CAMP DIARY.

" Did you think that was more than you bargained
for, my man ? "

His answer came promptly and stoutly, —
"I been a-tinking, Mas'r, dat 's jess what I went for.99
I thought this did well enough for my very first inter-
change of dialogue with my recruits.

November 27, 1862.

Thanksgiving-Day ; it is the first moment I have had
for writing during these three days, which have installed
me into a new mode of life so thoroughly that they seem
three years. Scarcely pausing in New York or in
Beaufort, there seems to have been for me but one step
from the camp of a Massachusetts regiment to this, and
that step over leagues of waves.

It is a holiday wherever General Saxton's proclama-
tion reaches. The chilly sunshine and the pale blue
river seem like New England, but those alone. The air
is full of noisy drumming, and of gunshots ; for the prize-
shooting is our great celebration of the day, and the
drumming is chronic. My young barbarians are all at
play. I look out from the broken windows of this forlorn
plantation-house, through avenues of great live-oaks,
with their hard, shining leaves, and their branches hung
with a universal drapery of soft, long moss, like fringe-
trees struck with grayness. Below, the sandy soil,
scantly covered with coarse grass, bristles with sharp
palmettoes and aloes ; all the vegetation is sthT, shining,
semi-tropical, with nothing soft or delicate in its tex-
ture. Numerous plantation-buildings totter around, all
slovenly and unattractive, while the interspaces are filled
with all manner of wreck and refuse, pigs, fowls, dogs,
and omnipresent Ethiopian infancy. All this is the

CAMP DIARY.

9

universal Southern panorama; but five minutes' walk
beyond the hovels and the live-oaks will bring one to
something so un-Southern that the whole Southern coast
at this moment trembles at the suggestion of such a
thing, — the camp of a regiment of freed slaves.

One adapts one's self so readily to new surroundings
that already the full zest of the novelty seems passing
away from my perceptions, and I write these lines in an
eager effort to retain all I can. Already I am growing
used to the experience, at first so novel, of living among
five hundred men, and scarce a white face to be seen, —
of seeing them go through all their daily processes, eat-
ing, frolicking, talking, just as if they were white. Each
day at dress-parade I stand with the customary folding
of the arms before a regimental line of countenances
so black that I can hardly tell whether the men stand
steadily or not ; black is every hand which moves in
ready cadence as I vociferate, " Battalion ! Shoulder
arms ! " nor is it till the line of white officers moves for-
ward, as parade is dismissed, that I am reminded that
my own face is not the color of coal.

The first few days on duty with a new regiment must
be devoted almost wholly to tightening reins ; in this
process one deals chiefly with the officers, and I have as
yet had but little personal intercourse with the men.
They concern me chiefly in bulk, as so many consumers
of rations, wearers of uniforms, bearers of muskets. But
as the machine comes into shape, I am beginning to
decipher the individual parts. At first, of course, they
all looked just alike ; the variety comes afterwards, and
they are just as distinguishable, the officers say, as so
many whites. Most of them are wholly raw, but there
are many who have already been for months in camp in

10

CAMP DIARY.

the abortive " Hunter Regiment," yet in that loose kind
of way which, like average militia training, is a doubt-
ful advantage. I notice that some companies, too, look
darker than others, though all are purer African than I
expected. This is said to be partly a geographical dif-
ference between the South Carolina and Florida men.
When the Rebels evacuated this region they probably
took with them the house-servants, including most of the
mixed blood, so that the residuum seems very black.
But the men brought from Fernandina the other day
average lighter in complexion, and look more intelligent,
and they certainly take wonderfully to the drill.

It needs but a few days to show the absurdity of
distrusting the military availability of these people.
They have quite as much average comprehension as
whites of the need of the thing, as much courage (I
doubt not), as much previous knowledge of the gun, and,
above all, a readiness of ear and of imitation, which, for
purposes of drill, counterbalances any defect of mental
training. To learn the drill, one does not want a set of
college professors ; one wants a squad of eager, active,
pliant school-boys ; and the more childlike these pupils
are the better. There is no trouble about the drill ;
they will surpass whites in that. As to camp-life, they
have little to sacrifice ; they are better fed, housed, and
clothed than ever in their lives before, and they ap-
pear to have few inconvenient vices. They are simple,
docile, and affectionate almost to the point of absurdity.
The same men who stood fire in open field with perfect
coolness, on the late expedition, have come to me blub-
bering in the most irresistibly ludicrous manner on being
transferred from one company in the regiment to an-
other.

CAMP DIARY.

11

In noticing the squad-drills I perceive that the men
learn less laboriously than whites that " double, double,
toil and trouble," which is the elementary vexation of
the drill-master, — that they more rarely mistake their
left for their right, — and are more grave and sedate
while under instruction. The extremes of jollity and
sobriety, being greater with them, are less liable to be
intermingled ; these companies can be driven with a
looser rein than my former one, for they restrain them-
selves ; but the moment they are dismissed from drill
every tongue is relaxed and every ivory tooth visible.
This morning I wandered about where the different
companies were target-shooting, and their glee was con-
tagious. Such exulting shouts of " Ki ! ole man," when
some steady old turkey-shooter brought his gun down
for an instant's aim, and then unerringly hit the mark ;
and then, when some unwary youth fired his piece into
the ground at half-cock, such infinite guffawing and
delight, such rolling over and over on the grass, such
dances of ecstasy, as made the " Ethiopian minstrelsy "
of the stage appear a feeble imitation.

Evening. — Better still was a scene on which I stum-
bled to-night. Strolling in the cool moonlight, 1 was
attracted by a brilliant light beneath the trees, and cau-
tiously approached it. A circle of thirty or forty soldiers
sat around a roaring fire, while one old uncle, Cato by
name, was narrating an interminable tale, to the insatiable
delight of his audience. I came up into the dusky back-
ground, perceived only by a few, and he still continued.
It was a narrative, dramatized to the last degree, of his
adventures in escaping from his master to the Union
vessels ; and even I, who have heard the stories of
Harriet Tubman, and such wonderful slave-comedians,

12

CAMP DIARY.

never witnessed such a piece of acting. When I came
upon the scene he had just come unexpectedly upon a
plantation-house, and, putting a bold face upon it, had
walked up to the door.

" Den I go up to de white man, berry humble, and say,
would he please gib ole man a mouthful for eat ?

" He say he must hab de valeration ob half a dollar.

" Den I look berry sorry, and turn for go away.

" Den he say I might gib him dat hatchet I had.

" Den I say " (this in a tragic vein) " dat I must hab
dat hatchet for defend myself from de dogs / "

[Immense applause, and one appreciating auditor says,
chuckling, " Dat was your arms, ole man," which brings
down the house again.]

" Den he say de Yankee pickets was near by, and I
must be very keerful.

" Den I say, « Good Lord, Mas'r, am dey ? ' "

Words cannot express the complete dissimulation with
which these accents of terror were uttered, — this being
precisely the piece of information he wished to obtain.

Then he narrated his devices to get into the house at
night and obtain some food, — how a dog flew at him, —
how the whole household, black and white, rose in pur-
suit, — how he scrambled under a hedge and over a high
fence, etc., — all in a style of which Gough alone among
orators can give the faintest impression, so thoroughly
dramatized was every syllable.

Then he described his reaching the river-side at last,
and trying to decide whether certain vessels held friends
or foes.

" Den I see guns on board, and sure sartin he Union
boat, and I pop my head up. Den I been-a-tink [think]
Seceshkey hab guns too, and my head go down again.

CAMP DIARY.

13

Den I hide in de bush till morning. Den I open my
bundle, and take ole white shirt and tie him on ole pole
and wave him, and ebry time de wind blow, I been-
a-tremble, and drap down in de bushes," — because,
being between two fires, he doubted whether friend or
foe would see his signal first. And so on, with a succes-
sion of tricks beyond Moliere, of acts of caution, foresight,
patient cunning, which were listened to with infinite
gusto and perfect comprehension by every listener.

And all this to a bivouac of negro soldiers, with the
brilliant fire lighting up their red trousers and gleaming
from their shining black faces, — eyes and teeth all white
with tumultuous glee. Overhead, the mighty limbs of
a great live-oak, with the weird moss swaying in the
smoke, and the high moon gleaming faintly through.

Yet to-morrow strangers will remark on the hopeless,
impenetrable stupidity in the daylight faces of many of
these very men, the solid mask under which Nature has
concealed all this wealth of mother-wit. This very
comedian is one to whom one might point, as he hoed
lazily in a cotton-field, as a being the light of whose brain
had utterly gone out ; and this scene seems like coming
by night upon some conclave of black beetles, and finding
them engaged, with green-room and foot-lights, in enact-
ing " Poor Pillicoddy.,, This is their university ; every
young Sambo before me, as he turned over the sweet
potatoes and peanuts which were roasting in the
ashes, listened with reverence to the wiles of the ancient
Ulysses, and meditated the same. It is Nature's com-
pensation ; oppression simply crushes the upper faculties
of the head, and crowds everything into the perceptive
organs. Cato, thou reasonest well ! When I get into
any serious scrape, in an enemy's country, may I be

14

CAMP DIARY.

lucky enough to have you at my elbow, to pull me out
of it!

The men seem to have enjoyed the novel event of
Thanksgiving-Day ; they have had company and regi-
mental prize-shootings, a minimum of speeches and a
maximum of dinner. Bill of fare : two beef-cattle and a
thousand oranges. The oranges cost a cent apiece, and
the cattle were Secesh, bestowed by General Saxby,
as they all call him.

December I, 1862.
How absurd is the impression hequeathed by Slavery
in regard to these Southern blacks, that they are sluggish
and inefficient in labor ! Last night, after a hard day's
work (our guns and the remainder of our tents being
just issued), an order came from Beaufort that we
should be ready in the evening to unload a steamboat's
cargo of boards, being some of those captured by them a
few weeks since, and now assigned for their use. I won-
dered if the men would grumble at the night-work ; but
the steamboat arrived by seven, and it was bright moon-
light when they went at it. Never have I beheld such
a jolly scene of labor. Tugging these wet and heavy
boards over a bridge of boats ashore, then across the
slimy beach at low tide, then up a steep bank, and all in
one great uproar of merriment for two hours. Running
most of the time, chattering all the time, snatching the
boards from each other's backs as if they were some
covered treasure, getting up eager rivalries between
different companies, pouring great choruses of ridicule
on the heads of all shirkers, they made the whole scene
so enlivening that I gladly stayed out in the moonlight
for the whole time to watch it. And all this without
any urging or any promised reward, but simply as the

CAMP DIARY.

15

most natural way of doing the thing. The steamboat
captain declared that they unloaded the ten thousand
feet of boards quicker than any white gang could have
done it ; and they felt it so little, that, when, later in the
night, I reproached one whom I found sitting by a camp-
fire, cooking a surreptitious opossum, telling him that he
ought to be asleep after such a job of work, he answered,
with the broadest grin, —

" 0 no, Cunnel, da's no work at all, Ciinnel ; dat
only jess enough for stretch we"

December 2, 1862.

I believe I have not yet enumerated the probable
drawbacks to the success of this regiment, if any. We
are exposed to no direct annoyance from the white regi-
ments, being out of their way ; and we have as yet no
discomforts or privations which we do not share with
them. I do not as yet see the slightest obstacle, in the
nature of the blacks, to making them good soldiers,
but rather the contrary. They take readily to drill, and
do not object to discipline ; they are not especially dull
or inattentive ; they seem fully to understand the im-
portance of the contest, and of their share in it. They
show no jealousy or suspicion towards their officers.

They do show these feelings, however, towards the
Government itself ; and no one can wonder. Here lies
the drawback to rapid recruiting. Were this a wholly
new regiment, it would have been full to overflowing, I
am satisfied, ere now. The trouble is in the legacy of
bitter distrust bequeathed by the abortive regiment of
General Hunter* — into which they were driven like
cattle, kept for several months in camp, and then turned
off without a shilling, by order of the War Department.
The formation of that regiment was, on the whole, a great

16

CAMP DIARY.

injury to this one; and the men who came from it,
though the best soldiers we have in other respects, are
the least sanguine and cheerful ; while those who now
refuse to enlist have a great influence in deterring others.
Our soldiers are constantly twitted by their families and
friends with their prospect of risking their lives in the
service, and being paid nothing ; and it is in vain that we
read them the instructions of the Secretary of War to
General Saxton, promising them the full pay of soldiers.
They only half believe it.#

Another drawback is that some of the white soldiers
delight in frightening the women on the plantations with
doleful tales of plans for putting us in the front rank in
all battles, and such silly talk, — the object being, per-
haps, to prevent our being employed on active service at
all. All these considerations they feel precisely as white
men would, — no less, no more ; and it is the compara-
tive freedom from such unfavorable influences which
makes the Florida men seem more bold and manly, as
they undoubtedly do. To-day General Saxton has re-
turned from Fernandina with seventy-six recruits, and
the eagerness of the captains to secure them was a sight
to see. Yet they cannot deny that some of the very best
men in the regiment are South Carolinians.

December 3, 1862. — 7 p. m.
What a life is this I lead ! It is a dark, mild, drizzling
evening, and as the foggy air breeds sand-flies, so it calls
out melodies and strange antics from this mysterious race

* With what utter humiliation were we, their officers, obliged to con-
fess to them, eighteen months afterwards, that it was their distrust
which was wise, and our faith in the pledges of the United States
Government which was foolishness !

CAMP DIARY.

17

of grown-up children with whom my lot is cast. All
over the camp the lights glimmer in the tents, and as I
sit at my desk in the open doorway, there come mingled
sounds of stir and glee. Boys laugh and shout, — a
feeble flute stirs somewhere in some tent, not an officer's, —
a drum throbs far away in another, — wild kildeer-plover
flit and wail above us, like the haunting souls of dead
slave-masters, — and from a neighboring cook-fire comes
the monotonous sound of that strange festival, half pow-
wow, half prayer-meeting, which they know only as a
u shout." These fires are usually enclosed in a little
booth, made neatly of palm-leaves and covered in at top,
a regular native African hut, in short, such as is pictured
in books, and such as I once got up from dried palm-
leaves for a fair at home. This hut is now crammed
with men, singing at the top of their voices, in one
of their quaint, monotonous, endless, negro-Methodist
chants, with obscure syllables recurring constantly,
and slight variations interwoven, all accompanied with
a regular drumming of the feet and clapping of the
hands, like castanets. Then the excitement spreads :
inside and outside the enclosure men begin to quiver
and dance, others join, a circle forms, winding monoto-
nously round some one in the centre ; some " heel and
toe" tumultously, others merely tremble and stagger
on, others stoop and rise, others whirl, others caper side-
ways, all keep steadily circling like dervishes ; spectators
applaud special strokes of skill ; my approach only en-
livens the scene ; the circle enlarges, louder grows the
singing, rousing shouts of encouragement come in, half
bacchanalian, half devout, 4i Wake 'em, brudder ! 99
" Stan' up to 'em, brudder ! " — and still the ceaseless
drumming and clapping, in perfect cadence, goes steadily

B

18

CAMP DIARY.

on. Suddenly there comes a sort of snap, and the spell
breaks, amid general sighing and laughter. And this
not rarely and occasionally, but night after night, while
in other parts of the camp the soberest prayers and
exhortations are proceeding sedately.

A simple and lovable people, whose graces seem to
come by nature, and whose vices by training. Some of
the best superintendents confirm the first tales of inno-
cence, and Dr. Zachos told me last night that on his
plantation, a sequestered one, " they had absolutely no
vices." Nor have these men of mine yet shown any
worth mentioning ; since I took command I have heard
of no man intoxicated, and there has been but one small
quarrel. I suppose that scarcely a white regiment in
the army shows so little swearing. Take the " Progres-
sive Friends " and put them in red trousers, and I verily
believe they would fill a guard-house sooner than these
men. If camp regulations are violated, it seems to be
usually through heedlessness. They love passionately
three things besides their spiritual incantations ; name-
ly, sugar, home, and tobacco. This last affection brings
tears to their eyes, almost, when they speak of their
urgent need of pay; they speak of their last-remem-
bered quid as if it were some deceased relative, too early
lost, and to be mourned forever. As for sugar, no white
man can drink coffee after they have sweetened it to
their liking.

I see that the pride which military life creates may
cause the plantation trickeries to diminish. For instance,
these men make the most admirable sentinels. It is far
harder to pass the camp lines at night than in the camp
from which I came ; and I have seen none of that dispo-
sition to connive at the offences of members of one's own

CAMP DIARY.

19

company which is so troublesome among white soldiers.
Nor are they lazy, either about work or drill ; in all
respects they seem better material for soldiers than I
had dared to hope. .

There is one company in particular, all Florida men,
which I certainly think the finest-looking company I
ever saw, white or black ; they range admirably in size,
have remarkable erectness and ease of carriage, and
really march splendidly. Not a visitor but notices them ;
yet they have been under drill only a fortnight, and a
part only two days. They have all been slaves, and
very few are even mulattoes.

December 4, 1862.

" Dwelling in tents, with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
This condition is certainly mine, — and with a multitude
of patriarchs beside, not to mention Caesar and Pompey,
Hercules and Bacchus.

A moving life, tented at night, this experience has
been mine in civil society, if society be civil before the
luxurious forest fires of Maine and the Adirondack, or
upon the lonely prairies of Kansas. But a stationary
tent life, deliberately going to housekeeping under can-
vas, I have never had before, though in our barrack life
at " Camp Wool " I often wished for it.

The accommodations here are about as liberal as my
quarters there, two wall-tents being placed end to end,
for office and bedroom, and separated at will by a " fly "
of canvas. There is a good board floor and mop-board,
effectually excluding dampness and draughts, and every-
thing but sand, which on windy days penetrates every-
where. The office furniture consists of a good desk or
secretary, a very clumsy and disastrous settee, and a
remarkable chair. The desk is a bequest of the slave-

20

CAMP DIARY.

holders, and the settee of the slaves, being ecclesiastical
in its origin, and appertaining to the little old church or
u praise-house," now used for commissary purposes. The
chair is a composite structure : I found a cane seat on a
dust-heap, which a black sergeant combined with two
legs from a broken bedstead and two more from an oak-
bough. I sit on it with a pride of conscious invention,
mitigated by profound insecurity. Bedroom furniture,
a couch made of gun-boxes covered with condemned
blankets, another settee, two pails, a tin cup, tin basin
(we prize any tin or wooden ware as savages prize iron),
and a valise, regulation size. Seriously considered, noth-
ing more appears needful, unless ambition might crave
another chair for company, and, perhaps, something for a
wash-stand higher than a settee.

To-day it rains hard, and the wind quivers through the
closed canvas, and makes one feel at sea. All the talk
of the camp outside is fused into a cheerful and indis-
tinguishable murmur, pierced through at every moment
by the wail of the hovering plover. Sometimes a face,
black or white, peers through the entrance with some
message. Since the light readily penetrates, though the
rain cannot, the tent conveys a feeling of charmed secur-
ity, as if an invisible boundary checked the pattering
drops and held the moaning wind. The front tent I
share, as yet, with my adjutant; in the inner apartment
I reign supreme, bounded in a nutshell, with no bad
dreams.

In all pleasant weather the outer " fly 99 is open, and
men pass and repass, a chattering throng. I think of
Emerson's Saadi, " As thou sittest at thy door, on the
desert's yellow floor," — for these bare sand-plains, gray
above, are always yellow when upturned, and there seems
a tinge of Orientalism in all our life.

CAMP DIARY.

21

Thrice a day we go to the plantation-houses for our
meals, camp-arrangements being yet very imperfect.
The officers board in different messes, the adjutant and
I still clinging to the household of William Washington,
— William the quiet and the courteous, the pattern of
house-servants, William the noiseless, the observing, the
discriminating, who knows everything that can be got,
and how to cook it. William and his tidy, lady-like
little spouse Hetty — a pair of wedded lovers, if ever I
saw one — set our table in their one room, hair-way be-
tween an unglazed window and a large wood-fire, such as
is often welcome. Thanks to the adjutant, we are pro-
vided with the social magnificence of napkins ; while
(lest pride take too high a flight) our table-cloth consists
of two " New York Tribunes " and a u Leslie's Pictorial."
Every steamer brings us a clean table-cloth. Here are
we forever supplied with pork and oysters and sweet
potatoes and rice and hominy and corn-bread and milk ;
also mysterious griddle-cakes of corn and pumpkin ; also
preserves made of pumpkin-chips, and other fanciful pro-
ductions of Ethiop art. Mr. E. promised the plantation-
superintendents who should come down here K all the
luxuries of home," and we certainly have much apparent,
if little real variety. Once William produced with some
palpitation something fricasseed, which he boldly termed
chicken ; it was very small, and seemed in some unde-
veloped condition of ante-natal toughness. After the
meal he frankly avowed it for a squirrel.

December 5, 1862.
Give these people their tongues, their feet, and their
leisure, and they are happy. At every twilight the air is
full of singing, talking, and clapping of hands in unison.

22

CAMP DIARY.

One of their favorite songs is full of plaintive cadences ;
it is not, I think, a Methodist tune, and I wonder where
they obtained a chant of such beauty.

" I can't stay behind, my Lord, I can't stay behind!
0, my father is gone, my father is gone,
My father is gone into heaven, my Lord !

I can't stay behind !
Dere 's room enough, room enough,
Room enough in de heaven for de sojer:

Can't stay behind I "

It always excites them to have us looking on, yet they
sing these songs at all times and seasons. I have heard
this very song dimly droning on near midnight, and,
tracing it into the recesses of a cook-house, have found
an old fellow coiled away among the pots and provisions,
chanting away with his " Can't stay behind, sinner/' till
I made him leave his song behind.

This evening, after working themselves up to the high-
est pitch, a party suddenly rushed off, got a barrel, and
mounted some man upon it, who said, " Gib anoder song?
boys, and 1 'se gib you a speech." After some hesitation
and sundry shouts of " Rise de sing, somebody," and
" Stan' up for Jesus, brudder," irreverently put in by the
juveniles, they got upon the John Brown song, always a
favorite, adding a jubilant verse which I had never before
heard, — " We '11 beat Beauregard on de clare battle-
field." Then came the promised speech, and then no
less than seven other speeches by as many men, on a
variety of barrels, each orator being affectionately tugged
to the pedestal and set on end by his special constituency.
Every speech was good, without exception ; with the
queerest oddities of phrase and pronunciation, there was
an invariable enthusiasm, £ pungency of statement, and

CAMP DIARY.

23

an understanding of the points at issue, which made them
all rather thrilling. Those long-winded slaves in
u Among the Pines " seemed rather fictitious and literary
in comparison. The most eloquent, perhaps, was Cor-
poral Prince Lambkin, just arrived from Fernandina,
who evidently had a previous reputation among them.
His historical references were very interesting. He re-
minded them that he had predicted this war ever since
Fremont's time, to which some of the crowd assented ; he
gave a very intelligent account of that Presidential cam-
paign, and then described most impressively the secret
anxiety of the slaves in Florida to know all about Presi-
dent Lincoln's election, and told how they all refused to
work on the fourth of March, expecting their freedom to
date from that day. He finally brought out one of the
few really impressive appeals for the American flag that
I have ever heard. " Our mas'rs dey hab lib under de
flag, dey got dere wealth under it, and ebryting beautiful
for dere chilen. Under it dey hab grind us up, and put
us in dere pocket for money. But de fus' minute dey
tink dat ole flag mean freedom for we colored people,
dey pull it right down, and run up de rag ob dere own."
(Immense applause). * But we 'll neber desert de ole
flag, boys, neber ; we hab lib under it for eighteen hun-
dred sixty-two years, and we '11 die for it now." "With
which overpowering discharge of chronology-at-long-
range, this most effective of stump-speeches closed. I
see already with relief that there will be small demand
in this regiment for harangues from the officers ; give the
men an empty barrel for a stump, and they will do their
own exhortation.

December 11, 1S62.
Haroun Alraschid, wandering in disguise through his

7 O Q O

24

CAMP DIARY.

imperial streets, scarcely happened upon a greater variety
of groups than I, in my evening strolls among our own
camp-fires.

Beside some of these fires the men are cleaning their
guns or rehearsing their drill, — beside others, smoking
in silence their very scanty supply of the beloved tobacco,
— beside others, telling stories and shouting with laugh-
ter over the broadest mimicry, in which they excel, and
in which the officers come in for a full share. The ever-
lasting " shout " is always within hearing, with its mix-
ture of piety and polka, and its castanet-like clapping of
the hands. Then there are quieter prayer-meetings, with
pious invocations and slow psalms, " deaconed out" from
memory by the leader, two lines at a time, in a sort of
wailing chant. Elsewhere, there are conversazioni around
fires, with a woman for queen of the circle, — her Nubian
face, gay headdress, gilt necklace, and white teeth, all re-
splendent hi the glowing light. Sometimes the woman is
spelling slow monosyllables out of a primer, a feat which
always commands all ears, — they rightly recognizing a
mighty spell, equal to the overthrowing of monarchs, in
the magic assonance of cat, hat, pat, bat, and the rest of
it. Elsewhere, it is some solitary old cook, some aged
Uncle Tiff, with enormous spectacles, who is perusing a
hyrnn-book by the light of a pine splinter, in his deserted
cooking booth of palmetto leaves. By another fire there
is an actual dance, red-legged soldiers doing right-and-left,
and " now-lead-de-lady-ober," to the music of a violin
which is rather artistically played, and which may have
guided the steps, in other days, of Barn wells and Hugers.
And yonder is a stump-orator perched on his barrel,
pouring out his exhortations to fidelity in war and in
religion. To-night for the first time I have heard an

CAMP DIARY.

25

harangue in a different strain, quite saucy, sceptical, and
defiant, appealing to them in a sort of French material-
istic style, and claiming some personal experience of war-
fare. " You don't know notin' about it, boys. You tink
you 's brave enough ; how you tink, if you stan' clar in
de open field, — here you, and dar de Secesh ? You 's
got to hab de right ting inside o' you. You must hab it
'served [preserved] in you, like dese yer sour plums dey
'serve in de barr'l ; you 's got to harden it down inside o'
you, or it 's notin'." Then he hit hard at the religionists :
u When a man 's got de sperit ob de Lord in him, it
weakens him all out, can't hoe de corn." He had a great
deal of broad sense in his speech ; but presently some
others began praying vociferously close by. as if to drown
this free-thinker, when at la-t he exclaimed, " I mean to
fight de war through, an' die a good sojer wid de last
kick, — dat 's my prayer ! " and suddenly jumped off the
barrel. I was quite interested at discovering this reverse
side of the temperament, the devotional side preponder-
ates so enormously, and the greatest scamps kneel and
groan in their prayer-meetings with such entire zest. It
shows that there is some individuality developed among
them, and that they will not become too exclusively
pietistic.

Their love of the spelling-book is perfectly inexhaust-
ible, — they stumbling on by themselves, or the blind
leading the blind, with the same pathetic patience which
they carry into everything. The chaplain is getting up
a schoolhouse, where he will soon teach them as regularly
as he can. But the alphabet must always be a very
incidental business in a camp.

December 14.

Passages from prayers in the camp : —

26

CAMP DIARY.

" Let me so lib dat when I die I shall hab manners,
dat I shall know what to say when I see my Heabenly
Lord."

" Let me lib wid de musket in one hand an' de Bible
in de oder, — dat if I die at de muzzle ob de musket, die
in de water, die on de land, I may know I hab de bressed
Jesus in my hand, an' hab no fear."

" I hab lef' my wife in de land o' bondage ; my little
ones dey say eb'ry night, Whar is my fader ? But when
I die, when de bressed mornin' rises, when I shall stan'
in de glory, wid one foot on de water an' one foot on de
land, den, O Lord, I shall see my wife an' my little chil'en
once more."

These sentences I noted down, as best I could, beside
the glimmering camp-fire last night. The same person
was the hero of a singular little contre-temps at a funeral
in the afternoon. It was our first funeral. The man
had died in hospital, and we had chosen a picturesque
burial-place above the river, near the old church, and
beside a little nameless cemetery, used by generations of
slaves. It was a regular military funeral, the coffin being
draped with the American flag, the escort marching be-
hind, and three volleys fired over the grave. During the
services there was singing, the chaplain deaconing out the
hymn in their favorite way. This ended, he announced
his text, — "This poor man cried, and the Lord heard
him, and delivered him out of all his trouble." Instantly,
to my great amazement, the cracked voice of the chorister
was uplifted, intoning the text, as if it were the first verse
of another hymn. So calmly was it done, so imperturbable
were all the black countenances, that I half began to con-
jecture that the chaplain himself intended it for a hymn,
though I could imagine no prospective rhyme for trouble

CAMP DIARY.

27

unless it were approximated by debbil, — which is, indeed,
a favorite reference, both with the men and with his Rev-
erence. But the chaplain, peacefully awaiting, gently
repeated his text after the chant, and to my great relief
the old chorister waived all further recitative, and let the
funeral discourse proceed.

Their memories are a vast bewildered chaos of Jewish
history and biography ; and most of the great events of
the past, down to the period of the American Revolution,
they instinctively attribute to Moses. There is a fine
bold confidence in all their citations, however, and the
record never loses piquancy in their hands, though strict
accuracy may suffer. Thus, one of my captains, last
Sunday, heard a colored exhorter at Beaufort proclaim,
" Paul may plant, and may polish wid water, but it won't
do," in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have
recognized himself.

Just now one of the soldiers came to me to say that he
was about to be married to a girl in Beaufort, and would
I lend him a dollar and seventy-five cents to buy the
wedding outfit ? It seemed as if matrimony on such
moderate terms ought to be encouraged in these days ;
and so I responded to the appeal.

December 16.

To-day a young recruit appeared here, who had been
the slave of Colonel Sammis, one of the leading Florida
refugees. Two white companions came with him, who
also appeared to be retainers of the Colonel, and I asked
them to dine. Being likewise refugees, they had stories
to tell, and were quite agreeable : one was English born,
the other Floridian, a dark, sallow Southerner, very well
bred. After they had gone, the Colonel himself appeared,

28

CAMP DIARY.

I told him that I had been entertaining his white friends,
and after a while he quietly let out the remark, —

" Yes, one of those white friends of whom you speak is
a boy raised on one of my plantations ; he has travelled
with me to the North, and passed for white, and he always
keeps away from the negroes."

Certainly no such suspicion had ever crossed my mind.

I have noticed one man in the regiment who would
easily pass for white, — a little sickly drummer, aged
fifty at least, with brown eyes and reddish hair, who is
said to be the son of one of our commodores. I have seen
perhaps a dozen persons as fair, or fairer, among fugitive
slaves, but they were usually young children. It touched,
me far more to see this man, who had spent more than
half a lifetime in this low estate, and for whom it now
seemed too late to be anything but a nigger." This offen-
sive word, by the way, is almost as common with them as
at the North, and far more common than with well-bred
slaveholders. They have meekly accepted it. " Want
to go out to de nigger houses, Sah," is the universal im-
pulse of sociability, when they wish to cross the lines.
u He hab twenty house-servants, an' two hundred head os
nigger," is a still more degrading form of phrase, in which
the epithet is limited to the field-hands, and they esti-
mated like so many cattle. This want of self-respect of
course interferes with the authority of the non-commis-
sioned officers, which is always difficult to sustain, even
in white regiments. " He need n't try to play de white
man ober me," was the protest of a soldier against his
corporal the other day. To counteract this I have often
to remind them that they do not obey their officers because
they are white, but because they are their officers ; and
guard duty is an admirable school for this, because they

CAMP DIARY.

29

readily understand that the sergeant or corporal of the
guard has for the time more authority than any commis-
sioned officer who is not on duty. It is necessary also for
their superiors to treat the non-commissioned officers with
careful courtesy, and I often caution the line officers never
to call them u Sam " or " Will," nor omit the proper
handle to their names. The value of the habitual cour-
tesies of the regular army is exceedingly apparent with
these men : an officer of polished manners can wind them
round his finger, while white soldiers seem rather to pre-
fer a certain roughness. The demeanor of my men to
each other is very courteous, and yet I see none of that
sort of upstart conceit which is sometimes offensive among
free negroes at the North, the dandy-barber strut. This
is an agreeable surprise, for I feared that freedom and
regimentals would produce precisely that.

They seem the world's perpetual children, docile, gay,
and lovable, in the midst of this war for freedom on which
they have intelligently entered. Last night, before
" taps," there was the greatest noise in camp that I had
ever heard, and I feared some riot. On going out, I
found the most tumultuous sham-fight proceeding in total
darkness, two companies playing like boys, beating tin
cups for drums. When some of them saw me they
seemed a little dismayed, and came and said* beseech-
ingly, — u Cunnel, Sah, you hab no objection to we
playin', Sah ? " — which objection I disclaimed ; but soon
they all subsided, rather to my regret, and scattered mer-
rily. Afterward I found that some other officer had told
them that I considered the affair too noisy, so that I felt
a mild self-reproach when one said, " Cunnel, wish you
had let we play a little longer, Sah." Still I was not
sorry, on the whole ; for these sham-fights between com-

30

CAMP DIARY.

panies would in some regiments lead to real ones, and
there is a latent jealousy here between the Florida and
South Carolina men, which sometimes makes me anxious.

The officers are more kind and patient with the men
than I should expect, since the former are mostly young,
and drilling tries the temper; but they are aided by
hearty satisfaction in the results already attained. I
have never yet heard a doubt expressed among the offi-
cers as to the superiority of these men to white troops in
aptitude for drill and discipline, because of their imitative-
ness and docility, and the pride they take in the service.
One captain said to me to-day, " I have this afternoon
taught my men to load-in-nine-times, and they do it bet-
ter than we did it in my former company in three months."
I can personally testify that one of our best lieutenants,
an Englishman, taught a part of his company the essen-
tial movements of the " school for skirmishers " in a single
lesson of two hours, so that they did them very passably,
though I feel bound to discourage such haste. However,
I " formed square " on the third battalion drill. Three
fourths of drill consist of attention, imitation, and a good
ear for time ; in the other fourth, which consists of the
application of principles, as, for instance, performing by
the left flank some movement before learned by the right,
they are perhaps slower than better educated men. Hav-
ing belonged to five different drill-clubs before entering
the army, I certainly ought to know something of the re-
sources of human awkwardness, and I can honestly say
that they astonish me by the facility with which they do
things. I expected much harder work in this respect.

The habit of carrying burdens on the head gives them
erectness of figure, even where physically disabled. I
have seen a woman, with a brimming water-pail balanced

CAMP DIARY. 31

on her head, or perhaps a cup, saucer, and spoon, stop
suddenly, turn round, stoop to pick up a missile, rise
again, fling it, light a pipe, and go through many evolu-
tions with either hand or both, without spilling a drop.
The pipe, by the way, gives an odd look to a well-dressed
young girl on Sunday, but one often sees that spectacle.
The passion for tobacco among our men continues quite

absorbing, and I have piteous appeals for some arrange-
I

ment by which they can buy it on credit, as we have yet
no sutler. Their imploring, " Cunnel, we can't lib wid-
out it, Sah," goes to my heart ; and as they cannot read,
I cannot even have the melancholy satisfaction of supply-
ing them with the excellent anti-tobacco tracts of Mr.
Trask.

December 19.

Last night the water froze in the adjutant's tent, but
not in mine. To-day has been mild and beautiful. The
blacks say they do not feel the cold so much as the white
officers do, and perhaps it is so, though their health evi-
dently suffers more from dampness. On the other hand,
while drilling on very warm days, they have seemed to
suffer more from the heat than their officers. But they
dearly love fire, and at night will always have it, if pos-
sible, even on the minutest scale, — a mere handful of
splinters, that seems hardly more efficacious than a fric-
tion-match. Probably this is a natural habit for the
short-lived coolness of an out-door country ; and then
there is something delightful in this rich pine, which
burns like a tar-barrel. It was, perhaps, encouraged by
the masters, as the only cheap luxury the slaves had at
hand.

As one grows more acquainted with the men, their in-
dividualities emerge ; and I find, first their faces, then

32

CAMP DIARY.

their characters, to be as distinct as those of whites. It
is very interesting the desire they show to do 'their duty,
and to improve as soldiers ; they evidently think about it,
and see the importance of the thing ; they say to me that
we white men cannot stay and be their leaders always
and that they must learn to depend on themselves, or else
relapse into their former condition.

Beside the superb branch of uneatable bitter oranges
which decks my tent-pole, I have to-day hung up a long
bough of finger-sponge, which floated to the river-bank.
As winter advances, butterflies gradually disappear : one
species (a Vanessa) lingers ; three others have vanished
since I came. Mocking-birds are abundant, but rarely
sing ; once or twice they have reminded me of the red
thrush, but are inferior, as I have always thought. The
colored people all say that it will be much cooler ; but
my officers do not think so, perhaps because last winter
was so unusually mild, — with only one frost, they say.

December 20.

Philoprogenitiveness is an important organ for an offi-
cer of colored troops ; and I happen to be well provided
with it. It seems to be the theory of all military usages,
in fact, that soldiers are to be treated like children ; and
these singular persons, who never know their own age till
they are past middle life, and then choose a birthday with
such precision, — " Fifty year old, Sah, de fus' last
April," — prolong the privilege of childhood.

I am perplexed nightly for countersigns, — their range
of proper names is so distressingly limited, and they make
such amazing work of every new one. At first, to be
sure, they did not quite recognize the need of any vari-
ation : one night some officer a^ked a sentinel whether he

CAMP DIARY.

had the countersign yet, and was indignantly answered,
* Should tink I hab 'ern, hab 'em for a fortnight " ;
which seems a long epoch for that magic word to hold
out. To-ni^ht I thought I would have M Fredericks-
burg," in honor of Burnside's reported victory, using the
rumor quickly, for fear of a contradiction. Later, in
comes a captain, gets the countersign for his own use, but
presently returns, the sentinel having pronounced it incor-
rect. On inquiry, it appears that the sergeant of the
guard, being weak in geography, thought best to substi-
tute the more familiar word, a Crockery-ware " ; which
was, with perfect gravity, confided to all the sentinels, and
accepted without question. 0 life ! what is the fun of
fiction beside thee ?

I should think they would suffer and complain these
cold nights ; but they say nothing, though there is a good
deal of coughing. I should fancy that the scarlet trousers
must do something to keep them warm, and wonder that
they dislike them so much, when they are so much like
their beloved fires. They certainly multiply firelight in
any case. I often notice that an infinitesimal flame, with
one soldier standing by it, looks like quite a respectable
conflagration, and it seems as if a group of them must
dispel dampness.

December 21.

To a regimental commander no book can be so fasci-
nating as the consolidated Morning Report, which is ready
about nine, and tells how many in each company are sick,
absent, on duty, and so on. It is one's newspaper and
daily mail ; I never grow tired of it. If a single recruit
has come in, I am always eager to see how he looks on
paper.

To-night the officers are rather depressed by rumors

34

CAMP DIARY.

of Burnside's being defeated, after all. I am fortunately-
equable and undepressible ; and it is very convenient that
the men know too little of the events of the war to feel
excitement or fear. They know General Saxton and me,
— " de General " and " de Cunnel,'' — and seem to ask
no further questions. We are the war. It saves a great
deal of trouble, while it lasts, this childlike confidence ;
nevertheless, it is our business to educate them to man-
hood, and I see as yet no obstacle. As for the rumor, the
world will no doubt roll round, whether Burnside is de-
feated or succeeds.

Christmas Day.

" We '11 fight for liberty
Till de Lord shall call us home ;

We '11 soon be free
Till de Lord shall call us home."

This is the hymn which the slaves at Georgetown,
South Carolina, were whipped for singing when Presi-
dent Lincoln was elected. So said a little drummer-boy,
as he sat at my tent's edge last night and told me his
story ; and he showed all his white teeth as he added,
" Dey tink 6 de Lord 9 meant for say de Yankees."

Last night, at dress-parade, the adjutant read General
Saxton's Proclamation for the New Year's Celebration.
I think they understood it, for there was cheering in all
the company-streets afterwards. Christmas is the great
festival of the year for this people ; but, with New
Year's coming after, we could have no adequate pro-
gramme for to-day, and so celebrated Christmas Eve
with pattern simplicity. We omitted, namely, the mystic
curfew which we call " taps," and let them sit up and
burn their fires, and have their little prayer-meetings as
late as they desired ; and all night, as I waked at inter-

CAMP DIARY.

35

vals, I could hear them praying and " shouting " and clat-
tering with hands and heels. It seemed to make them
very happy, and appeared to be at least an innocent
Christmas dissipation, as compared with some of the con-
vivialities of the " superior race " hereabouts.

December 26.

The day passed with no greater excitement for the men
than target-shooting, which they enjoyed. I had the
private delight of the arrival of our much-desired sur-
geon and his nephew, the captain, with letters and news
from home. They also bring the good tidings that Gen-
eral Saxton is not to be removed, as had been reported.

Two different stands of colors have arrived for us, and
will be presented at New Year's, — one from friends in
New York, and the other from a lady in Connecticut. I
see that " Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly " of De-
cember 20th has a highly imaginative picture of the
muster-in of our first company, and also of a skirmish on
the late expedition.

I must not forget the prayer overheard last night by
one of the captains : " 0 Lord ! when I tink ob dis Kis-
mas and las' year de Kismas. Las' Kismas he in de
Secesh, and notin' to eat but grits, and no salt in 'em.
Dis year in de camp, and too much victual J" This
u too much " is a favorite phrase out of their grateful
hearts, and did not in this case denote an excess of
dinner, — as might be supposed, — but of thanksgiving.

December 29.

Our new surgeon has begun his work most efficiently :
he and the chaplain have converted an old gin-house into
a comfortable hospital, with ten nice beds and straw pal-

36

CAMP DIARY.

lets. He is now, with a hearty professional faith, looking
round for somebody to put into it. I am afraid the regi-
ment will accommodate him ; for, although he declares
that these men do not sham sickness, as he expected, their
catarrh is an unpleasant reality. They feel the dampness
very much, and make such a coughing at dress-parade,
that I have urged him to administer a dose of cough-
mixture, all round, just before that pageant. Are the
colored race tough ? is my present anxiety ; and it is
odd that physical insufficiency, the only discouragement
not thrown in our way by the newspapers, is the only
discouragement which finds any place in our minds. They
are used to sleeping indoors in winter, herded before fires,
and so they feel the change. Still, the regiment is as
healthy as the average, and experience will teach us
something.*

December 30.

On the first of January we are to have a slight colla-
tion, ten oxen or so, barbecued, — or not properly barbe-
cued, but roasted whole. Touching the length of time
required to " do " an ox, no two housekeepers appear to
agree. Accounts vary from two hours to twenty-four.
We shall happily have enough to try all gradations of
roasting, and suit all tastes, from Miss A.'s to mine. But
fancy me proffering a spare-rib, well done, to some fair
lady ! What ever are we to do for spoons and forks and
plates ? Each soldier has his own, and is sternly held
responsible for it by " Army Regulations." But how
provide for the multitude ? Is it customary, I ask you,

* A second winter's experience removed all this solicitude, for
they learned to take care of themselves. During the first February
the sick-list averaged about ninety, during the second about thirty,
— this being the worst month in the year for blacks.

CAMP DIARY.

37

to help to tenderloin with one's fingers ? Fortunately,
the Major is to see to that department. Great are the
advantages of military discipline : for anything perplex-
ing, detail a subordinate.

New Year's Eve.

My housekeeping at home is not, perhaps, on any very
extravagant scale. Buying beefsteak, I usually go to the
extent of two or three pounds. Yet when, this morning
at daybreak, the quartermaster called to inquire how
many cattle I would have killed for roasting, I turned
over in bed, and answered composedly, " Ten, — and
keep three to be fatted."

Fatted, quotha ! Not one of the beasts at present ap-
pears to possess an ounce of superfluous flesh. Never
were seen such lean kine. As they swing on vast spits,
composed of young trees, the firelight glimmers through
their ribs, as if they were great lanterns. But no matter,
they are cooking, — nay, they are cooked.

One at least is taken off to cool, and will be replaced
to-morrow to warm up. It was roasted three hours, and
well done, for I tasted it. It is so long since I tasted
fresh beef that forgetfulness is possible ; but I fancied
this to be successful. I tried to imagine that I liked the
Homeric repast, and certainly the whole thing has been
far more agreeable than was to be expected. The doubt
now is, whether I have made a sufficient provision for my
household. I should have roughly guessed that ten beeves
would feed as many million people, it has such a stupen-
dous sound ; but General Saxton predicts a small social
party of five thousand, and we fear that meat will run
short, unless they prefer bone. One of the cattle is so
small, we are hoping it may turn out veal.

For drink we aim at the simple luxury of molasses-

38

CAMP DIARY.

and-water, a barrel per company, ten in all. Liberal
housekeepers may like to know that for a barrel of water
we allow three gallons of molasses, half a pound of gin-
ger, and a quart of vinegar, — this last being a new in-
gredient for my untutored palate, though all the rest are
amazed at my ignorance. Hard bread, with more mo-
lasses, and a dessert of tobacco, complete the festive
repast, destined to cheer, but not inebriate.

On this last point, of inebriation, this is certainly a
wonderful camp. For us it is absolutely omitted from
the list of vices. I have never heard of a glass of liquor
in the camp, nor of any effort either to bring it in or to
keep it out. A total absence of the circulating medium
might explain the abstinence, — not that it seems to have
that effect with white soldiers, — but it would not explain
the silence. The craving for tobacco is constant, and not
to be allayed, like that of a mother for her children ; but
I have never heard whiskey even wished for, save on
Christmas-Day, and then only by one man, and he spoke
with a hopeless ideal sighing, as one alludes to the Golden
Age. I am amazed at this total omission of the most
inconvenient of all camp appetites. It certainly is not
the result of exhortation, for there has been no occasion
for any, and even the pledge would scarcely seem effica-
cious where hardly anybody can write.

I do not think there is a great visible eagerness for to-
morrow's festival: it is not their way to be very jubilant
over anything this side of the New Jerusalem. They
know also that those in this Department are nominally
free already, and that the practical freedom has to be
maintained, in any event, by military success. But they
will enjoy it greatly, and we shall have a multitude of
people.

CAMP DIARY.

39

January 1, 1863 (evening).

A happy New Year to civilized people, — mere white
folks. Our festival has come and gone, with perfect suc-
cess, and our good General has been altogether satisfied.
Last night the great fires were kept smouldering in the
pit, and the beeves were cooked more or less, chiefly-
more, — during which time they had to be carefully
watched, and the great spits turned by main force.
Happy were the merry fellows who were'permitted to sit
up all night, and watch the glimmering flames that threw
a thousand fantastic shadows among the great gnarled
oaks. And such a chattering as I was sure to hear when-
ever I awoke that night !

My first greeting to-day was from one of the most
stylish sergeants, who approached me with the following
little speech, evidently the result of some elaboration : —

" I tink myself happy, dis New Year's Day, for salute
my own Cunnel. Dis day las' year I was servant to a
Cunnel ob Secesh ; but now I hab de privilege for salute
my own Cunnel."

That officer, with the utmost sincerity, reciprocated the
sentiment.

About ten o'clock the people began to collect by land,
and also by water, — in steamers sent by General Saxton
for the purpose ; and from that time all the avenues of
approach were thronged. The multitude were chiefly
colored women, with gay handkerchiefs on their heads,
and a sprinkling of men, with that peculiarly respectable
look which these people always have on Sundays and
holidays. There were many white visitors also, — la-
dies on horseback and in carriages, superintendents and
teachers, officers, and cavalry-men. Our companies were
marched to the neighborhood of the platform, and allowed

40

CAMP DIARY.

to sit or stand, as at the Sunday services ; the platform
was occupied by ladies and dignitaries, and by the band
of the Eighth Maine, which kindly volunteered for the
occasion ; the colored people filled up all the vacant
openings in the beautiful grove around, and there was
a cordon of mounted visitors beyond. Above, the great
live-oak branches and their trailing moss ; beyond the
people, a glimpse of the blue river.

The services * began at half past eleven o'clock, with
prayer by our chaplain, Mr. Fowler, who is always, on
such occasions, simple, reverential, and impressive. Then
the President's Proclamation was read by Dr. W. H.
Brisbane, a thing infinitely appropriate, a South Caro-
linian addressing South Carolinians ; for he was reared
among these very islands, and here long since emanci-
pated his own slaves. Then the colors were presented
to us by the Rev. JMr. French, a chaplain who brought
them from the donors in New York. All this was
according to the programme. Then followed an incident
so simple, so touching, so utterly unexpected and startling,
that I can scarcely believe it on recalling, though it gave
the key-note to the whole day. The very moment the
speaker had ceased, and just as I took and waved the
flag, which now for the first time meant anything to these
poor people, there suddenly arose, close beside the plat-
form, a strong male voice (but rather cracked and elderly),
into which two women's voices instantly blended, sing-
ing, as if by an impulse that could no more be repressed
than the morning note of the song-sparrow, —

" My Country, 't is of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing! "

People looked at each other, and then at us on the

CAMP DIARY.

41

platform, to see whence came this interruption, not set
down in the bills. Firmly and irrepressibly the quaver-
ing voices sang on, verse after verse; others of the col-
ored people joined in ; some whites on the platform
began, but I motioned them to silence. I never saw any-
thing so electric ; it made all other words cheap ; it
seemed the choked voice of a race at last unloosed.
Nothing could be more wonderfully unconscious; art
could not have dreamed of a tribute to the day of jubilee
that should be so affecting ; history will not believe it ;
and when I came to speak of it, after it was ended, tears
were everywhere. If you could have heard how quaint
and innocent it was ! Old Tiff and his children might
have sung it ; and close before me was a little slave-boy,
almost white, who seemed to belong to the party, and
even he must join in. Just think of it ! — the first day
they had ever had a country, the first flag they had ever
seen which promised anything to their people, and here,
while mere spectators stood in silence, waiting for my
stupid words, these simple souls burst out in their lay, as
if they were by their own hearths at home ! When they
stopped, there was nothing to do for it but to speak, and
I went on ; but the life of the whole day was in those
unknown people's song.

Receiving the flags, I gave them into the hands of two
fine-looking men, jet black, as color-guard, and they also
spoke, and very effectively, — Sergeant Prince Rivers
and Corporal Robert Sutton. The regiment sang " March-
ing Along," and then General Saxton spoke, in his own
simple, manly way, and Mrs. Francis D. Gage spoke
very sensibly to the women, and Judge Stickney, from
Florida, added something ; then some gentlemen sang an
ode, and the regiment the John Brown song, and then

42

CAMP DIARY.

they went to their beef and molasses. Everything was
very orderly, and they seemed to have a very gay time.
Most of the visitors had far to go, and so dispersed before
dress-parade, though the band stayed to enliven it. In
the evening we had letters from home, and General Sax-
ton had a reception at his house, from which I ex-cused
myself ; and so ended one of the most enthusiastic and
happy gatherings I ever knew. The day was perfect,
and there was nothing but success.

I forgot to say, that, in the midst of the services, it was
announced that General Fremont was appointed Com-
mander-in-Chief, — an announcement which was received
with immense cheering, as would have been almost any-
thing else, I verily believe, at that moment of high tide.
It was shouted across by the pickets above, — a way in
which we often receive news, but not always trustworthy,

January 3, 1863.

Once, and once only, thus far, the water has frozen in
my tent; and the next morning showed a dense white
frost outside. We have still mocking-birds and crickets
and rosebuds, and occasional noonday baths in the river,
though the butterflies have vanished, as I remember to
have observed in Fayal, after December. I have been
here nearly six weeks without a rainy day ; one or two
slight showers there have been, once interrupting a drill,
but never dress-parade. For climate, by day, we might
be among the isles of Greece, — though it may be my
constant familiarity with the names of her sages which
suggests that impression. For instance, a voice just now
called, near my tent, — " Cato, whar 's Plato ? "

The men have somehow got the impression that it is
essential to the validity of a marriage that they should

CAMP DIARY.

43

come to me for permission, just as they used to go to the
master ; and I rather encourage these little confidences,
because it is so entertaining to hear them. " Now, Cun-
nel," said a faltering swain the other day, "I want for
get me one good lady," which I approved, especially the
limitation as to number. Afterwards I asked one of the
bridegroom's friends whether he thought it a good match.
" O yes, Cunnel," said he, in all the cordiality of friend-
ship, u John 's gwine for marry Venus." I trust the
goddess will prove herself a better lady than she ap-
peared during her previous career upon this planet.
But this naturally suggests the isles of Greece again.

January 7.

On first arriving, I found a good deal of anxiety among
the officers as to the increase of desertions, that being the
rock on which the u Hunter Regiment " split. Now this
evil is very nearly stopped, and we are every day recov-
ering the older absentees. One of the very best things
that have happened to us was the half-accidental shoot-
ing of a man who had escaped from the guard-house, and
was wounded by a squad sent in pursuit. He has since
died ; and this very evening another man, who escaped
with him, came and opened the door of my tent, after
being five days in the woods, almost without food. His
clothes were in rags, and he was nearly starved, poor
foolish fellow, so that we can almost dispense with further
punishment. Severe penalties would be wasted on these
people, accustomed as they have been to the most violent
passions on the part of white men ; but a mild inexor-
ableness tells on them, just as it does on any other chil-
dren. It is something utterly new to them, and it is thus
far perfectly efficacious. They have a great deal of pride

44

CAMP DIARY.

as soldiers, and a very little of severity goes a great way,
if it be firm and consistent. This is very encouraging.

The single question which I asked of some of the plan-
tation superintendents, on the voyage, was, " Do these
people appreciate justice ? 99 If they did it was evident
that all the rest would be easy. When a race is de-
graded beyond that point it must be very hard to deal
with them ; they must mistake all kindness for indul-
gence, all strictness for cruelty. With these freed slaves
there is no such trouble, not a particle : let an officer be
only just and firm, with a cordial, kindly nature, and he
has no sort of difficulty. The plantation superintendents
and teachers have the same experience, they say ; but
we have an immense advantage in the military organ-
ization, which helps in two ways : it increases their
self-respect, and it gives us an admirable machinery for
discipline, thus improving both the fulcrum and the lever.

The wounded man died in the hospital, and the gen-
eral verdict seemed to be, " Him brought it on heself."
Another soldier died of pneumonia on the same day, and
we had the funerals in the evening. It was very impres-
sive. A dense mist came up, with a moon behind it, and
we had only the light of pine-splinters, as the procession
wound along beneath the mighty, moss-hung branches of
the ancient grove. The groups around the grave, the
dark faces, the red garments, the scattered lights, the
misty boughs, were weird and strange. The men sang
one of their own wild chants. Two crickets sang also,
one on either side, and did not cease their little monotone,
even when the three volleys were fired above the graves.
Just before the coffins were lowered, an old man whis-
pered to me that I must have their position altered, —
the heads must be towards the west ; so it was done, —

CAMP DIARY.

45

though they are in a place so veiled in woods that either
rising or setting sun will find it hard to spy them.

We have now a good regimental hospital, admirably
arranged in a deserted gin-house, — a fine well of our
own digging, within the camp lines, — a full allowance of
tents, all floored, — a wooden cook-house to every com-
pany, with sometimes a palmetto mess-house beside, — a
substantial wooden guard-house, with a fireplace five feet
" in de clar," where the men off duty can dry themselves
and sleep comfortably in bunks afterwards. We have
also a great circular school-tent, made of condemned can-
vas, thirty feet in diameter, and looking like some of the
Indian lodges I saw in Kansas. We now meditate a
regimental bakery. Our aggregate has increased from
four hundred and ninety to seven hundred and forty,
besides a hundred recruits now waiting at St. Augustine,
and we have practised through all the main movements
in battalion drill.

Affairs being thus prosperous, and yesterday having
been six weeks since my last and only visit to Beaufort,
I rode in, glanced at several camps, and dined with the
General. It seeme 1 absolutely like re-entering the world ;
and I did not fully estimate my past seclusion till it oc-
curred to me, as a strange and novel phenomenon, that
the soldiers at the other camps were white.

January 8.

This morning I went to Beaufort again, on necessary
business, and by good luck happened upon a review and
drill of the white regiments. The thing that struck me
most was that same absence of uniformity, in minor
points, that I noticed at first in my own officers. The
best regiments in the Department are represented among

46

CAMP DIARY.

my captains and lieutenants, and very well represented
too ; yet it has cost much labor to bring them to any uni-
formity in their drill. There is no need of this ; for the
prescribed " Tactics " approach perfection ; it is never
left discretionary in what place an officer shall stand, or
in what words he shall give his order. All variation
would seem to imply negligence. Yet even West Point
occasionally varies from the " Tactics," — as, for instance,
in requiring the line officers to face down the line, when
each is giving the order to his company. In our strict-
est Massachusetts regiments this is not done.

It needs an artist's eye to make a perfect drill-master.
Yet the small points are not merely a matter of punctilio ;
for, the more perfectly a battalion is drilled on the parade-
ground, the more quietly it can be handled in action.
Moreover, the great need of uniformity is this : that, in
the field, soldiers of different companies, and even of dif-
ferent regiments, are liable to be intermingled, and a
diversity of orders may throw everything into confusion.
Confusion means Bull Run.

I wished my men at the review to-day ; for, amidst all
the rattling and noise of artillery and the galloping of
cavalry, there was only one infantry movement that we
have not practised, and that was done by only one regi-
ment, and apparently considered quite a novelty, though
it is easily taught, — forming square by Casey's method :
forward on centre.

It is really just as easy to drill a regiment as a com-
pany, — perhaps easier, because one has more time to
think ; but it is just as essential to be sharp and decisive,
perfectly clear-headed, and to put life into the men.
A regiment seems small when one has learned how to
handle it, a mere handful of men ; and I have no doubt

CAMP DIARY.

47

that a brigade or a division would soon appear equally
small. But to handle either judiciously, — ah, that is
another affair !

So of governing ; it is as easy to govern a regiment as
a school or a factory, and needs like qualities, — system,
promptness, patience, tact; moreover, in a regiment one
has the aid of the admirable machinery of the army, so
that I see very ordinary men who succeed very tolerably.

Reports of a six months' armistice are rife here, and
the thought is deplored by all. I cannot believe it ; yet
sometimes one feels very anxious about the ultimate fate
of these poor people. After the experience of Hungary,
one sees that revolutions may go backward ; and the
habit of injustice seems so deeply impressed upon the
whites, that it is hard to believe in the possibility of any-
thing better. I dare not yet hope that the promise of
the President's Proclamation will be kept. For myself
I can be indifferent, for the experience here has been its
own daily and hourly reward ; and the adaptedness of
the freed slaves for drill and discipline is now thoroughly
demonstrated, and must soon be universally acknowl-
edged. But it would be terrible to see this regiment
disbanded or defrauded.

January 12.

Many things glide by without time to narrate them.
On Saturday we had a mail with the President's Second
Message of Emancipation, and the next day it was read
to the men. The words themselves did not stir them
very much, because they have been often told that they
were free, especially on New Year's Day. and, being
unversed in politics, they do not understand, as well as
we do. the importance of each additional guaranty. But
the chaplain spoke to them afterwards very effectively,

48

CAMP DIARY.

as usual ; and then I proposed to them to hold up their
hands and pledge themselves to be faithful to those still
in bondage. They entered heartily into this, and the
scene was quite impressive, beneath the great oak-
branches. I heard afterwards that only one man refused
to raise his hand, saying bluntly that his wife was out of
slavery with him, and he did not care to fight. The
other soldiers of his company were very indignant, and
shoved him about among them while marching back to
their quarters, calling him " Coward." I was glad of
their exhibition of feeling, though it is very possible that
the one who had thus the moral courage to stand alone
among his comrades might be more reliable, on a pinch,
than some who yielded a more ready assent. But the
whole response, on their part, was very hearty, and will
be a good thing to which to hold them hereafter, at any
time of discouragement or demoralization, — which was
my chief reason for proposing it. With their simple
natures it is a great thing to tie them to some definite
committal ; they never forget a marked occurrence, and
never seem disposed to evade a pledge.

It is this capacity of honor and fidelity which gives me
such entire faith in them as soldiers. Without it all
their religious demonstration would be mere sentimen-
tality. For instance, every one who visits the camp is
struck with their bearing as sentinels. They exhibit, in
this capacity, not an upstart conceit, but a steady, con-
scientious devotion to duty. They would stop their idol-
ized General Saxton, if he attempted to cross their beat
contrary to orders : I have seen them. No feeble or in-
competent race could do this. The officers tell many
amusing instances of this fidelity, but I think mine the
best.

CAMP DIARY.

49

It was very dark the other night, — an unusual thing
here, — and the rain fell in torrents; so I put on my
India-rubber suit, and went the rounds of the sentinels,
incognito, to test them. I can only say that I shall never
try such an experiment again, and have cautioned my
officers against it. 'T is a wonder I escaped with life
and limb, — such a charging of bayonets and clicking of
gun-locks. Sometimes I tempted them by refusing to
give any countersign, but offering them a piece of tobacco,
which they could not accept without allowing me nearer
than the prescribed bayonets distance. Tobacco is more
than gold to them, and it was touching to watch the strug-
gle in their minds ; but they always did their duty at
last, and I never could persuade them. One man, as if
wish in & to crush all his inward vacillations at one fell
stroke, told me stoutly that he never used tobacco, though
I found next day that he loved it as much as any one of
them. It seemed wrong thus to tamper with their fidel-
ity ; yet it was a vital matter to me to know how far it
could be trusted, out of my sight. It was so intensely
dark that not more than one or two knew me, even after
I had talked with the very next sentinel, especially as
they had never seen me in India-rubber clothing, and I
can always disguise my voice. It was easy to distinguish
those who did make the discovery ; they were always
conscious and simpering when their turn came ; while the
others were stout and irreverent till I revealed myself,
and then rather cowed and anxious, fearing to have
offended.

It rained harder and harder, and when I had nearly
made the rounds I had had enough of it, and, simply
giving the countersign to the challenging sentinel, under-
took to pass within the lines.

3 D

50

CAMP DIARY.

" Halt ! " exclaimed this dusky man and brother, bring-
ing down his bayonet, "de countersign' not correck."

Now the magic word, in this case, was " Vicksburg,"
in honor of a rumored victory. But as I knew that these
hard names became quite transformed upon their lips,
" Carthage " being familiarized into Cartridge, and " Con-
cord " into Corn-cob, how could I possibly tell what shade
of pronunciation my friend might prefer for this particular
proper name ?

" Vicksburg," I repeated, blandly, but authoritatively,
endeavoring, as zealously as one of Christy's Minstrels,
to assimilate my speech to any supposed predilection of
the Ethiop vocal organs.

" Halt dar ! Countersign not correck," was the only
answer.

The bayonet still maintained a position which, in a mil-
itary point of view, was impressive.

I tried persuasion, orthography, threats, tobacco, all in
vain. I could not pass in. Of course my pride was up ;
for was I to defer to an untutored African on a point
of pronunciation ? Classic shades of Harvard, forbid !
Affecting scornful indifference, I tried to edge away, pro-
posing to myself to enter the camp at some other point,
where my elocution would be better appreciated. Not a
step could I stir.

" Halt ! " shouted my gentleman again, still holding me
at his bayonet's point, and I wincing and halting.

I explained to him the extreme absurdity of this pro-
ceeding, called his attention to the state of the weather,
which, indeed, spoke for itself so loudly that we could
hardly hear each other speak, and requested permission
to withdraw. The bayonet, with mute eloquence, refused
the application.

CAMP DIARY.

51

There flashed into my mind, with more enjoyment in
the retrospect than I had experienced at the time, an ad-
venture on a lecturing tour in other years, when I had
spent an hour in trying to scramble into a country tavern,
after bed-time, on the coldest night of winter. On that
occasion I ultimately found myself stuck midway in the
window, with my head in a temperature of 80°, and my
heels in a temperature of — 10°, with a heavy window-
sash pinioning the small of my back. However, I had
got safe out of that dilemma, and it was time to put an
end to this one.

" Call the corporal of the guard," said L at last, with
dignity, unwilling either to make a night of it or to yield
my incognito.

" Corporal ob de guard ! " he shouted, lustily, — " Post
Number Two ! " while I could hear another sentinel
chuckling with laughter. This last was a special guard,
placed over a tent, with a prisoner in charge. Presently
he broke silence.

" Who am dat ?" he asked, in a stage whisper. " Am
he a buckra [white man] ? "

" Dunno whether he been a buckra or not/' responded,
doggedly, my Cerberus in uniform ; " but I 's bound to
keep him here till de corporal ob de guard come."

Yet, when that dignitary arrived, and I revealed my-
self, poor Number Two appeared utterly transfixed with
terror, and seemed to look for nothing less than immediate
execution. Of course I praised his fidelity, and the next
day complimented him before the guard, and mentioned
him to his captain ; and the whole affair was very good
for them all. Hereafter, if Satan himself should approach
them in darkness and storm, they will take him for "de
Cunnel," and treat him with special severity.

52

CAMP DIARY.

January 13.

In many ways the childish nature of this people shows
itself. I have just had to make a change of officers in a
company which has constantly complained, and with good
reason, of neglect and improper treatment. Two excel-
lent officers have been assigned to them ; and yet they
sent a deputation to me in the evening, in a state of utter
wretchedness. " We 's bery grieved dis evening, Cun-
nel ; 'pears like we could n't bear it, to lose de Cap'n and
de Lieutenant, all two togeder." Argument was useless ;
and I could only fall back on the general theory, that I
knew what was best for them, which had much more
effect ; and I also could cite the instance of another com-
pany, which had been much improved by a new captain,
as they readily admitted. So with the promise that the
new officers should not be " savage to we," which was
the one thing they deprecated, I assuaged their woes.
Twenty-four hours have passed, and I hear them singing
most merrily all down that company street.

I often notice how their griefs may be dispelled, like
those of children, merely by permission to utter them : if
they can tell their sorrows, they go away happy, even
without asking to have anything done about them. I
observe also a peculiar dislike of all intermediate control :
they always wish to pass by the company officer, and deal
with me personally for everything. General Saxton
notices the same thing with the people on the plantations
as regards himself. I suppose this proceeds partly from
the old habit of appealing to the master against the over-
seer. Kind words would cost the master nothing, and
he could easily put off any non-fulfilment upon the over-
seer. Moreover, the negroes have acquired such consti-
tutional distrust of white people, that it is perhaps as

CAMP DIARY.

53

much as they can do to trust more than one person at a
time. Meanwhile this constant personal intercourse* is
out of the question in a well-ordered regiment ; and the
remedy for it is to introduce by degrees more and more
of system, so that their immediate officers will become all-
sufficient for the daily routine.

It is perfectly true (as I find everybody takes for
granted) that the first essential for an officer of colored
troops is to gain their confidence. But it is equally true,
though many persons do not appreciate it, that the admi-
rable methods and proprieties of the regular army are
equally available for all troops, and that the sublimest
philanthropist, if he does not appreciate this, is unfit to
command them.

Another childlike attribute in these men, which is less
agreeable, is a sort of blunt insensibility to giving physi-
cal pain. If they are cruel to animals, for instance, it
always reminds me of children pulling off flies' legs, in a
sort of pitiless, untaught, experimental way. Yet I
should not fear any wanton outrage from them. After
all their wrong-, they are not really revengeful ; and I
would far rather enter a captured city with them than
with white troops, for they would be more subordinate.
But for mere physical suffering they would have no fine
sympathies. The cruel things they have seen and under-
gone have helped to blunt them ; and if I ordered them
to put to death a dozen prisoners, I think they would do
it without remonstrance.

Yet their religious spirit grows more beautiful to me
in living longer with them ; it is certainly far more so
than at first, when it seemed rather a matter of phrase
and habit. It influences them both on the negative and
the positive side. That is, it cultivates the feminine vir-

54

CAMP DIARY.

tues first, — makes them patient, meek, resigned. This
is .rery evident in the hospital; there is nothing of the
restless, defiant habit of white invalids. Perhaps, if they
had more of this, they would resist disease better. Im-
bued from childhood with the habit of submission, drink-
ing in through every pore that other-world trust which is
the one spirit of their songs, they can endure everything.
This I expected ; but I am relieved to find that their re-
ligion strengthens them on the positive side also, — gives
zeal, energy, daring. They could easily be made fanatics,
if I chose ; but I do not choose. Their whole mood is
essentially Mohammedan, perhaps, in its strength and its
weakness ; and I feel the same degree of sympathy that
I should if I had a Turkish command, — that is, a sort of
sympathetic admiration, not tending towards agreement,
but towards co-operation. Their philosophizing is often
the highest form of mysticism ; and our dear surgeon de-
clares that they are all natural transcendentalists. The
white camps seem rough and secular, after this ; and I
hear our men talk about " a religious army," " a Gospel
army," in their prayer-meetings. They are certainly
evangelizing the chaplain, who was rather a heretic at
the beginning ; at least, this is his own admission. We
have recruits on their way from St. Augustine, where the
negroes are chiefly Roman Catholics ; and it will be in-
teresting to see how their type of character combines with
that elder creed.

It is time for rest ; and I have just looked out into the
night, where the eternal stars shut down, in concave pro-
tection, over the yet glimmering camp, and Orion hangs
above my tent-door, giving to me the sense of strength
and assurance which these simple children obtain from
their Moses and the Prophets. Yet external Nature does

CAMP DIARY.

55

its share in their training ; witness that most poetic of all
their songs, which always reminds me of the " Lyke-
Wake Dirge " in the " Scottish Border Minstrelsy," —

M I know moon-rise, I know star-rise;

Lay dis body down.
I walk in de moonlight, I walk in de starlight,

To lay dis body down.
I '11 walk in de graveyard, I '11 walk through de graveyard,

To lay dis body down.
I '11 lie in de grave and stretch out my arms ;

Lay dis body down.
I go to de Judgment in de evening ob de day

When I lay dis body down ;
And my soul and your soul will meet in de day

When I lay dis body down."

January 14.

In speaking of the military qualities of the blacks, I
should add, that the only point where I am disappointed
is one I have never seen raised by the most incredulous
newspaper critics, — namely, their physical condition.
To be sure they often look magnificently to my gymna-
sium-trained eye ; and I always like to observe them when
bathing, — such splendid muscular development, set off
by that smooth coating of adipose tissue which makes
them, like the South-Sea Islanders, appear even more
muscular than they are. Their skins are also of finer
grain than those of whites, the surgeons say, and certainly
are smoother and far more free from hair. But their
weakness is pulmonary ; pneumonia and pleurisy are
their besetting ailments ; they are easily made ill, — and
easily cured, if promptly treated : childish organizations
again. Guard -duty injures them more than whites, ap-
parently ; and double-quick movements, in choking dust,
set them coughing badly. But then it is to be remem-

56

CAMP DIARY.

bered that this is their sickly season, from January to
March, and that their healthy season will come in sum-
mer, when the whites break down. Still my conviction
of the physical superiority of more highly civilized races
is strengthened on the whole, not weakened, by observ-
ing them. As to availability for military drill and duty
in other respects, the only question I ever hear debated
among the officers is, whether they are equal or superior
to whites. I have never heard it suggested that they
were inferior, although I expected frequently to hear
such complaints from hasty or unsuccessful officers.

Of one thing I am sure, that their best qualities will be
wasted by merely keeping them for garrison duty. They
seem peculiarly fitted for offensive operations, and espe-
cially for partisan warfare ; they have so much dash and
such abundant resources, combined with such an Indian-
like knowledge of the country and its ways. These traits
have been often illustrated in expeditions sent after de-
serters. For instance, I despatched one of my best lieu-
tenants and my best sergeant with a squad of men to
search a certain plantation, where there were two sep-
arate negro villages. They went by night, and the force
was divided. The lieutenant took one set of huts, the
sergeant the other. Before the lieutenant had reached
his first house, every man in the village was in the woods,
innocent and guilty alike. But the sergeant's mode of
operation was thus described by a corporal from a white
regiment who happened to be in one of the negro houses.
He said that not a sound was heard until suddenly a red
leg appeared in the open doorway, and a voice outside
said, " Rally." Going to the door, he observed a similar
pair of red legs before every hut, and not a person was
allowed to go out, until the quarters had been thoroughly

CAMP DIARY.

57

searched, and the three deserters found. This was man-
aged by Sergeant Prince Rivers, our color-sergeant, who
is provost-sergeant also, and has entire charge of the
prisoners and of the daily policing of the camp. He is a
man of distinguished appearance, and in old times was
the crack coachman of Beaufort, in which capacity he
once drove Beauregard from this plantation to Charles-
ton, I believe. They tell me that he was once allowed to
present a petition to the Governor of South Carolina in
behalf of slaves, for the redress of certain grievances ; and
that a placard, offering two thousand dollars for his re-
capture, is still to be seen by the wayside between here
and Charleston. He was a sergeant in the old " Hunter
Regiment," and was taken by General Hunter to New
York last spring, where the chevrons on his arm brought
a mob upon him in Broadway, whom he kept off till the
police interfered. There is not a white officer in this
regiment who has more administrative ability, or more
absolute authority over the men ; they do not love him,
but his mere presence has controlling power over them.
He writes well enough to prepare for me a daily report
of his duties in the camp ; if his education reached a
higher point, I see no reason why he should not command
the Army of the Potomac. He is jet-black, or rather, I
should say, wine-black ; his complexion, like that of others
of my darkest men, having a sort of rich, clear depth,
without a trace of sootiness, and to my eye very hand-
some. His features are tolerably regular, and full of
command, and his figure superior to that of any of our
white officers, — being six feet high, perfectly propor-
tioned, and of apparently inexhaustible strength and
activity. His gait is like a panther's ; I never saw such
a tread. No anti-slavery novel has described a man of
3*

58

CAMP DIARY.

such marked ability. He makes Toussaint perfectly in-
telligible ; and if there should ever be a black monarchy
in South Carolina, he will be its king.

January 15.

This morning is like May. Yesterday I saw bluebirds
and a butterfly ; so this winter of a fortnight is over. I
fancy there is a trifle less coughing in the camp. We
hear of other stations in the Department where the mor-
tality, chiefly from yellow fever, has been frightful. Dr.
is rubbing his hands professionally over the fear-
ful tales of the surgeon of a New York regiment, just
from Key West, who has had two hundred cases of the
fever. " I suppose he is a skilful, highly educated man,"
said I. " Yes," he responded with enthusiasm. " Why,
he had seventy deaths ! " — as if that proved his supe-
riority past question.

January 19.

" And first, sitting proud as a king on his throne,
At the head of them all rode Sir Eichard Tyrone."

But I fancy that Sir Richard felt not much better satis-
fied with his following than I to-day. J. R. L. said once
that nothing was quite so good as turtle-soup, except mock-
turtle ; and I have heard officers declare that nothing was
so stirring as real war, except some exciting parade.
To-day, for the first time, I marched the whole regiment
through Beaufort and back, — the first appearance of
such a novelty on any stage. They did march splen-
didly ; this all admit. M 's prediction was ful-
filled : " Will not be in bliss ? A thousand men,

every one as black as a coal ! " I confess it. To look
back on twenty broad double-ranks of men (for they
marched by platoons), — every polished musket having

CAMP DIARY,

59

a black face beside it, and every face set steadily to the
front, — a regiment of freed slaves marching on into the
future, — it was something to remember ; and when they
returned through the same streets, marching by the flank,
with guns at a " support," and each man covering his
file-leader handsomely, the effect on the eye was almost
as fine. The band of the Eighth Maine joined us at the
entrance of the town, and escorted us in. Sergeant
Rivers said ecstatically afterwards, in describing the
affair, " And when dat band wheel in before us, and
march on, — my God! I quit dis world altogeder." I
wonder if he pictured to himself the many dusky regi-
ments, now unformed, which I seemed to see marching
up behind us, gathering shape out of the dim air.

I had cautioned the men, before leaving camp, not to
be staring about them as they marched, but to look
straight to the front, every man ; and they did it with
their accustomed fidelity, aided by the sort of spontaneous
eye-for-effect which is in all their melodramatic natures.
One of them was heard to say exultingly afterwards,
" "We did n't look to de right nor to de leff. I did n't see
notin' in Beaufort. Eb'ry step was worth a half a dollar."
And they all marched as if it were so. They knew well
that they were marching through throngs of officers and
soldiers who had drilled as many months as we had
drilled weeks, and whose eyes would readily spy out
every defect. And I must say, that, on the whole, with
a few trivial exceptions, those spectators behaved in a
manly and courteous manner, and I do not care to write
down all the handsome things that were said. Whether
said or not, they were deserved ; and there is no danger
that our men will not take sufficient satisfaction in their
good appearance. I was especially amused at one of our

60

CAMP DIARY.

recruits, who did not march in the ranks, and who said,
after watching the astonishment of some white soldiers,
" De buckra sojers look like a man who been-a-steal a
sheep," — that is, I suppose, sheepish.

After passing and repassing through the town, we
marched to the parade-ground, and went through an
hour's drill, forming squares and reducing them, and
doing other things which look hard on paper, and are
perfectly easy in fact ; and we were to have been re-
viewed by General Saxton, but he had been unexpect-
edly called to Ladies Island, and did not see us at all,
which was the only thing to mar the men's enjoyment.
Then we marched back to camp (three miles), the men
singing the "John Brown Song," and all manner of
things, — as happy creatures as one can well conceive.

It is worth mentioning, before I close, that we have
just received an article about " Negro Troops," from the
London Spectator, which is so admirably true to our
experience that it seems as if written by one of us. I
am confident that there never has been, in any American
newspaper, a treatment of the subject so discriminating
and so wise.

January 21.

To-day brought a visit from Major- General Hunter and
his staff, by General Saxton's invitation, — the former
having just arrived in the Department. I expected them
at dress-parade, but they came during battalion drill,
rather to my dismay, and we were caught in our old
clothes. It was our first review, and I dare say we did
tolerably ; but of course it seemed to me that the men
never appeared so ill before, — just as one always thinks
a party at one's own house a failure, even if the guests
seem to enjoy it, because one is so keenly sensitive to

CAMP DIARY.

61

every little thing that goes wrong. After review and
drill, General Hunter made the men a little speech, at
my request, and told them that he wished there were
fifty thousand of them. General Saxton spoke to them
afterwards, and said that fifty thousand muskets were on
their way for colored troops. The men cheered both
the generals lustily ; and they were complimentary after-
wards, though I knew that the regiment could not have
appeared nearly so well as on its visit to Beaufort. I
suppose I felt like some anxious mamma whose children
have accidentally appeared at dancing-school in their old
clothes.

General Hunter promises us all we want, — pay when

the funds arrive, Springfield rifled muskets, and blue

trousers. Moreover, he has graciously consented that we

should go on an expedition along the coast, to pick up

cotton, lumber, and, above all, recruits. I declined an

offer like this just after my arrival, because the regiment

was not drilled or disciplined, not even the officers ; but

it is all we wish for now.

11 What care I how black I be?
Forty pounds will marry me,"

quoth Mother Goose. Forty rounds will marry us to the
American Army, past divorcing, if we can only use them
well. Our success or failure may make or mar the pros-
pects of colored troops. But it is well to remember in
advance that military success is really less satisfactory
than any other, because it may depend on a moment's
turn of events, and that may be determined by some
trivial thing, neither to be anticipated nor controlled.
Napoleon ought to have won at Waterloo by all reason-
able calculations ; but who cares ? All that one can
expect is, to do one's best, and to take with equanimity
the fortune of war.

62

UP THE ST. MARTS.

CHAPTER III.
UP THE ST. MARY'S.

IF Sergeant Rivers was a natural king among my
dusky soldiers, Corporal Robert Sutton was the nat-
ural prime-minister. If not in all respects the ablest, he
was the wisest man in our ranks. As large, as powerful,
and as black as our good-looking Color-Sergeant, but
more heavily built and with less personal beauty, he had
a more massive brain and a far more meditative and sys-
tematic intellect. Not yet grounded even in the spelling-
book, his modes of thought were nevertheless strong,
lucid, and accurate ; and he yearned and pined for intel-
lectual companionship beyond all ignorant men whom I
have ever met. I believe that he would have talked all
day and all night, for days together, to any officer who
could instruct him, until his companion, at least, fell
asleep exhausted. His comprehension of the whole prob-
lem of Slavery was more thorough and far-reaching than
that of any Abolitionist, so far as its social and military
aspects went ; in that direction I could teach him noth-
ing, and he taught me much. But it was his methods of
thought which always impressed me chiefly : superficial
brilliancy he left to others, and grasped at the solid
truth.

Of course his interest in the war and in the regiment
was unbounded ; he did not take to drill with especial
readiness, but he was insatiable of it, and grudged every
moment of relaxation. Indeed, he never had any such
moments ; his mind was at work all the time, even when

UP THE ST MARY'S.

63

he was singing hymns, of which he had endless store.
He was not, however, one of our leading religionists, but
his moral code was solid and reliable, like his mental pro-
cesses. Ignorant as he was, the " years that bring the
philosophic mind" had yet been his, and most of my
young officers seemed boys beside him. He was a Flo-
rida man, and had been chiefly employed in lumbering
and piloting on the St. Mary's River, which divides
Florida from Georgia. Down this stream he had escaped
in a " dug-out," and after thus finding the way, had re-
turned (as had not a few of my men in other cases) to
bring away wife and child. " I would n't have leff my
child, Cunnel," he said, with an emphasis that sounded
the depths of his strong nature. And up this same river
he was always imploring to be allowed to guide an expe-
dition.

Many other men had rival propositions to urge, for they
gained self-confidence from drill and guard-duty, and
were growing impatient of inaction. " Ought to go to
work, Sa, — don't believe in we lyin' in camp eatin' up
de perwisions." Such were the quaint complaints, which
I heard with joy. Looking over my note-books of that
period, I find them filled with topographical memoranda,
jotted down by a flickering candle, from the evening talk
of the men, — notes of vulnerable points along the coast,
charts of rivers, locations of pickets. I prized these con-
versations not more for what I thus learned of the coun-
try than for what I learned of the men. One could thus
measure their various degrees of accuracy and their aver-
age military instinct ; and I must say that in every re-
spect, save the accurate estimate of distances, they stood
the test well. But no project took my fancy so much,
after all, as that of the delegate from the St. Mary's
River.

64

UP THE ST MARTS.

The best peg on which to hang an expedition in the
Department of the South, in those days, was the promise
of lumber. Dwelling in the very land of Southern pine,
the Department authorities had to send North for it, at
a vast expense. There was reported to be plenty in
the enemy's country, but somehow the colored soldiers
were the only ones who had been lucky enough to obtain
any, thus far, and the supply brought in by our men, after
flooring the tents of the white regiments and our own,
wras running low. An expedition of white troops, four
companies, with two steamers and two schooners, had
lately returned empty-handed, after a week's foraging ;
and now it was our turn. They said the mills were all
burned ; but should we go up the St. Mary's, Corporal
Sutton was prepared to offer more lumber than we
had transportation to carry. This made the crowning
charm of his suggestion. But there is never any danger
of erring on the side of secrecy, in a military department ;
and I resolved to avoid all undue publicity for our plans,
by not finally deciding on any until we should get outside
the bar. This was happily approved by my superior
officers, Major- General Hunter and Brigadier- General
Saxton ; and I was accordingly permitted to take three
steamers, with four hundred and sixty-two officers and
men, and two or three invited guests, and go down the
coast on my own responsibility. We were, in short, to
win our spurs ; and if, as among the Araucanians, our
spurs were made of lumber, so much the better. The
whole history of the Department of the South had been
defined as " a military picnic," and now we were to take
our share of the entertainment.

It seemed a pleasant share, when, after the usual vex-
ations and delays, we found ourselves (January 23, 1863)

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

65

gliding down the full waters of Beaufort River, the three
vessels having sailed at different hours, with orders to
rendezvous at St. Simon's Island, on the coast of Geor-
gia. Until then, the flag-ship, so to speak, was to be the
" Ben De Ford," Captain Hallett, — this being by far the
largest vessel, and carrying most of the men. Major
Strong was in command upon the " John Adams," an
army gunboat, carrying a thirty-pound Parrott gun, two
ten-pound Parrotts, and an eight-inch howitzer. Captain
Trowbridge (since promoted Lieutenant-Colonel of the
regiment) had charge of the famous " Planter," brought
away from the Rebels by Robert Small ; she carried a
ten-pound Parrott gun, and two howitzers. The John
Adams was our main reliance. She was an old East
Boston ferry-boat, a u double-ender," admirable for river-
work, but unfit for sea-service. She drew seven feet of
water ; the Planter drew only four ; but the latter was
very slow, and being obliged to go to St. Simon's by an
inner passage, would delay us from the beginning. She
delayed us so much, before the end, that we virtually
parted company, and her career was almost entirely sep-
arated from our own.

From boyhood I have had a fancy for boats, and have
seldom been without a share, usually more or less frac-
tional, in a rather indeterminate number of punts and
wherries. But when, for the first time, I found myself at
sea as Commodore of a fleet of armed steamers, — for
even the Ben De Ford boasted a six-pounder or so, —
it seemed rather an unexpected promotion. But it is a
characteristic of army life, that one adapts one's self, as
coolly as in a dream, to the most novel responsibilities.
One sits on court-martial, for instance, and decides on the
life of a fellow-creature, without being asked any incon-

66

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

venient questions as to previous knowledge of Black-
stone ; and after such an experience, shall one shrink
from wrecking a steamer or two in the cause of the na-
tion? So I placidly accepted my naval establishment,
as if it were a new form of boat-club, and looked over
the charts, balancing between one river and another, as
if deciding whether to pull up or down Lake Quinsiga-
mond. If military life ever contemplated the exercise
of the virtue of humility under any circumstances, this
would perhaps have been a good opportunity to begin its
practice. But as the " Regulations " clearly contem-
plated nothing of the kind, and as I had never met with
any precedent which looked in that direction, I had
learned to check promptly all such weak proclivities.

Captain Hallett proved the most frank and manly of
sailors, and did everything for our comfort. He was soon
warm in his praises of the demeanor of our men, which
was very pleasant to hear, as this was the first time that
colored soldiers in any number had been conveyed on
board a transport, and I know of no place where a white
volunteer appears to so much disadvantage. His mind
craves occupation, his body is intensely uncomfortable,
the daily emergency is not great enough to call out his
heroic qualities, and he is apt to be surly, discontented,
and impatient even of sanitary rules. The Southern
black soldier, on the other hand, is seldom sea-sick (at
least, such is my experience), and, if properly managed,
is equally contented, whether idle or busy ; he is, more-
over, so docile that all needful rules are executed with
cheerful acquiescence, and the quarters can therefore be
kept clean and wholesome. Very forlorn faces were soon
visible among the officers in the cabin, but I rarely saw
such among the men.

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

67

Pleasant still seemed our enterprise, as we anchored at
early morning in the quiet waters of St. Simon's Sound,
and saw the light fall softly on the beach and the low
bluffs, on the picturesque plantation-houses which nestled
there, and the graceful naval vessels that lay at anchor
before us. When we afterwards landed the air had that
peculiar Mediterranean translucency which Southern
islands wear; and the plantation we visited had the
loveliest tropical garden, though tangled and desolate,
which I have ever seen in the South. The deserted
house was embowered in great blossoming shrubs, and
filled with hyacinthine odors, among which predominated
that of the little Chickasaw roses which everywhere
bloomed and trailed around. There were fig-trees and
date-palms, crape-myrtles and wax-myrtles, Mexican
agaves and English ivies, japonicas, bananas, oranges,
lemons, oleanders, jonquils, great cactuses, and wild Flo-
rida lilies. This was not the plantation which Mrs.
Kemble has since made historic, although that was on
the same island ; and I could not waste much sentiment
over it, for it had belonged to a Northern renegade,
Thomas Butler King. Yet I felt then, as I have felt a
hundred times since, an emotion of heart-sickness at this
desecration of a homestead, — and especially when, look-
ing from a bare upper window of the empty house upon
a range of broad, flat, sunny roofs, such as children love
to play on, I thought how that place might have been
loved by yet innocent hearts, and I mourned anew the
sacrilege of war.

I had visited the flag-ship Wabash ere we left Port
Royal Harbor, and had obtained a very kind letter of
introduction from Admiral Dupont, that stately and
courtly potentate, elegant as one's ideal French marquis ;

68

UP THE ST MARY'S.

and under these credentials I received polite attention
from the naval officers at St. Simon's, — Acting Volun-
teer Lieutenant Budd, of the gunboat Potomska, and
Acting Master Moses, of the barque Fernandina. They
made valuable suggestions in regard to the different rivers
along the coast, and gave vivid descriptions of the last
previous trip up the St. Mary's undertaken by Captain
Stevens, U. S. N., in the gunboat Ottawa, when he
had to fight his way past batteries at every bluff in
descending the narrow and rapid stream. I was warned
that no resistance would be offered to the ascent, but
only to our return ; and was further cautioned against
the mistake, then common, of underrating the courage of
the Rebels. " It proved impossible to dislodge those
fellows from the banks," my informant said ; " they had
dug rifle-pits, and swarmed like hornets, and when fairly
silenced in one direction they were sure to open upon us
from another." All this sounded alarming, but it was
nine months since the event had happened ; and although
nothing had gone up the river meanwhile, I counted on
less resistance now. And something must be risked
anywhere.

We were delayed all that day in waiting for our con-
sort, and improved our time by verifying certain rumors
about a quantity of new railroad-iron which was said to
be concealed in the abandoned Rebel forts on St. Simon's
and Jekyll Islands, and which would have much value at
Port Royal, if we could only unearth it. Some of our
men had worked upon these very batteries, so that they
could easily guide us ; and by the additional discovery
of a large flat-boat we were enabled to go to work in
earnest upon the removal of the treasure. These iron
bars, surmounted by a dozen feet of sand, formed an in-

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

69

vulnerable roof for the magazines and bomb-proofs of the
fort, and the men enjoyed demolishing them far more
than they had relished their construction. Though the
day was the 24th of January, 1863, the sun was very
oppressive upon the sands ; but all were in the highest
spirits, and worked with the greatest zeal. The men
seemed to regard these massive bars as their first tro-
phies ; and if the rails had been wreathed with roses,
they could not have been got out in more holiday style.
Nearly a hundred were obtained that day, besides a
quantity of five-inch plank with which to barricade the
very conspicuous pilot-houses of the John Adams.

Still another day we were delayed, and could still keep
at this work, not neglecting some foraging on the island,
from which horses, cattle, and agricultural implements
were to be removed, and the few remaining colored fam-
ilies transferred to Fernandina. I had now become quite
anxious about the missing steamboat, as the inner pas-
sage, by which alone she could arrive, was exposed at
certain points to fire from Rebel batteries, and it would
have been unpleasant to begin with a disaster. I remem-
ber that, as I stood on deck, in the still and misty even-
ing, listening with strained senses for some sound of ap-
proach, I heard a low continuous noise from the distance,
more wild and desolate than anything in my memory can
parallel. It came from within the vast girdle of mist,
and seemed like the cry of a myriad of lost souls upon
the horizon's verge ; it was Dante become audible : and
yet it was but the accumulated cries of innumerable sea-
fowl at the entrance of the outer bay.

Late that night the Planter arrived. We left St.
Simon's on the following morning, reached Fort Clinch
by four o'clock, and there transferring two hundred men

70

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

to the very scanty quarters of the John Adams, allowed
the larger transport to go into Fernandina, while the two
other vessels were to ascend the St. Mary's River, unless
(as proved inevitable in the end) the defects in the boiler
of the Planter should oblige her to remain behind. That
night I proposed to make a sort of trial-trip up stream, as
far as Township Landing, some fifteen miles, there to
pay our respects to Captain Clark's company of cavalry,
whose camp was reported to lie near by. This was in-
cluded in Corporal Sutton's programme, and seemed to
me more inviting, and far more useful to the men, than
any amount of mere foraging. The thing really desirable
appeared to be to get them under fire as soon as possible,
and to teach them, by a few small successes, the applica-
tion of what they had learned in camp.

I had ascertained that the camp of this company lay
five miles from the landing, and was accessible by two
roads, one of which was a lumber-path, not commonly
used, but which Corporal Sutton had helped to construct,
and along which he could easily guide us. The plan was
to go by night, surround the house and negro cabins at
the landing (to prevent an alarm from being given), then
to take the side path, and if all went well, to surprise the
camp ; but if they got notice of our approach, through
their pickets, we should, at worst, have a fight, in which
the best man must win.

The moon was bright, and the river swift, but easy of
navigation thus far. Just below Township I landed a
small advance force, to surround the houses silently.
With them went Corporal Sutton ; and when, after
rounding the point, I went on shore with a larger body
of men, he met me with a silent chuckle of delight, and
with the information that there was a negro in a neigh-

UP THE ST. MARY'S. 71

boring cabin who had just come from the Rebel camp, and
could give the latest information. While he hunted up
this valuable auxiliary. I mustered my detachment, win-
nowing out the men who had coughs (not a few), and
sending them ignominiously on board again : a process I
had regularly to perform, during this first season of
catarrh, on all occasions where quiet was needed. The
only exception tolerated at this time was in the case of
one man who offered a solemn pledge, that, if unable to
restrain his cough, he would lie down on the ground,
scrape a little hole, and cough into it unheard. The
ingenuity of this proposition was irresistible, and the
eager patient was allowed to pass muster.

It was after midnight when we set off upon our excur-
sion. I had about a hundred men, marching by the
flank, with a small advanced guard, and also a few
flankers, where the ground permitted. I put my Flo-
rida company at the head of the column, and had by
my side Captain Metcalf, an excellent officer, and Ser-
geant Mclntyre, his first sergeant. We plunged pres-
ently into pine woods, whose resinous smell I can still
rememb#r. Corporal Sutton marched near me, with his
captured negro guide, whose first fear and sullenness had
yielded to the magic news of the President's Proclama-
tion, then just issued, of which Governor Andrew had
sent me a large printed supply ; — we seldom found men
who could read it, but they all seemed to feel more se-
cure when they held it in their hands. We marched on
through the woods, with no sound but the peeping of the
frogs in a neighboring marsh, and the occasional yelping
of a dog, as we passed the hut of some u cracker." This
yelping always made Corporal Sutton uneasy ; dogs are
the detective officers of Slavery's police.

72

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

We had halted once or twice to close up the ranks, and
had marched some two miles, seeing and hearing nothing
more. I had got all I could out of our new guide, and
was striding on, rapt in pleasing contemplation. All had
gone so smoothly that I had merely to fancy the rest as
being equally smooth. Already I fancied our little de-
tachment bursting out of the woods, in swift surprise,
upon the Rebel quarters, — already the opposing com-
mander, after hastily firing a charge or two from his
revolver (of course above my head), had yielded at dis-
cretion, and was gracefully tendering, in a stage attitude,
his unavailing sword, — when suddenly —

There was a trampling of feet among the advanced
guard as they came confusedly to a halt, and almost at
the same instant a more ominous sound, as of galloping
horses in the path before us. The moonlight outside the
woods gave that dimness of atmosphere within which is
more bewildering than darkness, because the eyes cannot
adapt themselves to it so well. Yet I fancied, and others
aver, that they saw the leader of an approaching party
mounted on a white horse and reining up in the pathway ;
others, again, declare that he drew a pistol from the
holster and took aim ; others heard the words, ^ Charge
in upon them ! Surround them ! 99 But all this was con-
fused by the opening rifle-shots of our advanced guard,
and, as clear observation was impossible, I made the men
fix their bayonets and kneel in the cover on each side the
pathway, and I saw with delight the brave fellows, with
Sergeant Mclntyre at their head, settling down in the
grass as coolly and warily as if wild turkeys were the
only game. Perhaps at the first shot a man fell at my
elbow. I felt it no more than if a tree had fallen, — I
was so busy watching my own men and the enemy, and

UP THE ST MARY'S. 73

planning what to do next. Some of our soldiers, misun-
derstanding the order, " Fix bayonets," were actually
charging with them, dashing off into the dim woods, with
nothing; to charge at but the vanishing tail of an imagi-
nary horse, — for we could really see nothing. This zeal
I noted with pleasure, and also with anxiety, as our great-
est danger was from confusion and scattering; and for
infantry to pursue cavalry would be a novel enterprise.
Captain Metcalf stood by me well in keeping the men
steady, as did Assistant Surgeon Minor, and Lieutenant,
now Captain, Jackson. How the men in the rear were
behaving I could not tell, — not so coolly, I afterwards
found, because they were more entirely bewildered, sup-
posing, until the shots came, that the column had simply
halted for a moment's rest, as had been done once or
twice before. They did not know who or where their
assailants might be, and the fall of the man beside me
created a hasty rumor that I was killed, so that it was on
the whole an alarming experience for them. They kept
together very tolerably, however, while our assailants,
dividing, rode along on each side through the open pine-
barren, firing into our ranks, but mostly over the heads
of the men. My soldiers in turn fired rapidly, — too
rapidly, being yet beginners, — and it was evident that,
dim as it was, both sides had opportunity to do some
execution.

I could hardly tell whether the fight had lasted ten
minutes or an hour, when, as the enemy's fire had evi-
dently ceased or slackened, I gave the order to cease
firing. But it was very difficult at first to make them
desist: the taste of gunpowder was too intoxicating.
One of them was heard to mutter, indignantly, " Why de
Cunnel order Cease firing, when de Secesh blazin' away
4

74

UP THE ST MARY'S.

at de rate ob ten dollar a day ? " Every incidental oc-
currence seemed somehow to engrave itself upon my
perceptions, without interrupting the main course of
thought. Thus I know, that, in one of the pauses of the
affair, there came wailing through the woods a cracked
female voice, as if calling back some stray husband who
had run out to join in the affray, " John, John, are you
going to leave me, John ? Are you going to let me and
the children be killed, John ? " I suppose the poor thing's
fears of gunpowder were very genuine ; but it was such a
wailing squeak, and so infinitely ludicrous, and John was
probably ensconced so very safely in some hollow tree,
that I could see some of the men showing all their white
teeth in the very midst of the fight. But soon this sound,
with all others, had ceased, and left us in peaceful posses-
sion of the field.

I have made the more of this little affair because it
was the first stand-up fight in which my men had been
engaged, though they had been under fire, in an irregular
way, in their small early expeditions. To me personally
the event was of the greatest value : it had given us all
an opportunity to test each other, and our abstract sur-
mises were changed into positive knowledge. Hereafter
it was of small importance what nonsense might be talked
or written about colored troops ; so long as mine did not
flinch, it made no difference to me. My brave young
officers, themselves mostly new to danger, viewed the
matter much as I did ; and yet we were under bonds of
life and death to form a correct opinion, which was more
than could be said of the Northern editors, and our ver-
dict was proportionately of greater value.

I was convinced from appearances that we had been
victorious, so far, though I could not suppose that this

UP THE ST MARY'S.

75

would be the last of it. We knew neither the numbers
of the enemy, nor their plans, nor their present con-
dition : whether they had surprised us or whether we
had surprised them was all a mystery. Corporal Sutton
was urgent to go on and complete the enterprise. All
my impulses said the same thing ; but then I had the
most explicit injunctions from General Saxton to risk as
little as possible in this first enterprise, because of the
fatal effect on public sentiment of even an honorable
defeat. We had now an honorable victory, so far as it
went ; the officers and men around me were in good
spirits, but the rest of the column might be nervous ;
and it seemed so important to make the first fight an
entire success, that I thought it wiser to let well alone ;
nor have I ever changed this opinion. For one's self,
Montrose's verse may be well applied, " To win or lose
it all." But one has no right to deal thus lightly with
the fortunes of a race, and that was the weight which I
always felt as resting on our action. If my raw infantry
force had stood unflinchingly a night-surprise from u de
hoss cavalry," as they reverentially termed them, I felt
that a good beginning had been made. All hope of sur-
prising the enemy's camp was now at an end ; I was will-
ing and ready to fight the cavalry over again, but it
seamed wiser that we, not they, should select the ground.

Attending to the wounded, therefore, and making as
we best could stretchers for those who were to be car-
ried, including the remains of the man killed at the first
discharge (Private ^Yilliam Parsons of Company G),
and others who seemed at the point of death, we marched
through the woods to the landing, — expecting at every
moment to ba involved in another fight. This not oc-
curring, I was more than ever satisfied that we had won

76

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

a victory ; for it was obvious that a mounted force would
not allow a detachment of infantry to march two miles
through open woods by night without renewing the fight,
unless they themselves had suffered a good deal. On
arrival at the landing, seeing that there was to be no
immediate affray, I sent most of the men on board, and
called for volunteers to remain on shore with me and hold
the plantation-house till morning. They eagerly offered ;
and I was glad to see them, when posted as sentinels by
Lieutenants Hyde and Jackson, who stayed with me,
pace their beats as steadily and challenge as coolly as
veterans, though of course there was some powder wasted
on imaginary foes. Greatly to my surprise, however, we
had no other enemies to encounter. "We did not yet
know that we had killed the first lieutenant of the cavalry,
and that our opponents had retreated to the woods in
dismay, without daring to return to their camp. This
at least was the account we heard from prisoners after-
wards, and was evidently the tale current in the neigh-
borhood, though the statements published in Southern
newspapers did not correspond. Admitting the death of
Lieutenant Jones, the Tallahassee Floridian of February
14th stated that " Captain Clark, finding the enemy in
strong force, fell back with his command to camp, and
removed his ordnance and commissary and other stores,
with twelve negroes on their way to the enemy, captured
on that day."

In the morning, my invaluable surgeon, Dr. Rogers,
sent me his report of killed and wounded ; and I have
been since permitted to make the following extracts from
his notes : " One man killed instantly by ball through the
heart, and seven wounded, one of whom will die. Braver
men never lived. One man with two bullet-holes through

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

77

the large muscles of the shoulders and neck brought off
from the scene of action, two miles distant, two muskets ;
and not a murmur has escaped his lips. Another, Rob-
ert Sutton, with three wounds, — one of which, being on
the skull, may cost him his life, — would not report him-
self till compelled to do so by his officers. While dress-
ing his wounds, he quietly talked of what they had done,
and of what they yet could do. To-day I have had the
Colonel order him to obey me. He is perfectly quiet
and cool, but takes this whole affair with the religious
bearing of a man who realizes that freedom is sweeter
than life. Yet another soldier did not report himself at
all, but remained all night on guard, and possibly I should
not have known of his having had a buck-shot in his
shoulder, if some duty requiring a sound shoulder had
not been required of him to-day." This last, it may be
added, had persuaded a comrade to dig out the buck-
shot, for fear of being ordered on the sick-list. And one
of those who were carried to the vessel — a man wounded
through the lungs — asked only if I were safe, the con-
trary having been reported. An officer may be pardoned
some enthusiasm for such men as these.

The anxious night having passed away without an
attack, another problem opened with the morning. For
the first time, my officers and men found themselves in
possession of an enemy's abode ; and though there was
but little temptation to plunder, I knew that I must here
begin to draw the line. I had long since resolved to
prohibit absolutely all indiscriminate pilfering and wan-
ton outrage, and to allow nothing to be taken or destroyed
but by proper authority. The men, to my great satisfac-
tion, entered into this view at once, and so did (perhaps
a shade less readily, in some cases) the officers. The

78

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

greatest trouble was with the steamboat hands, and I
resolved to let them go ashore as little as possible. Most
articles of furniture were already, however, before our
visit, gone from the plantation-house, which was now used
only as a picket-station. The only valuable article was
a piano-forte, for which a regular packing-box lay invit-
ingly ready outside. I had made up my mind, in accord-
ance with the orders given to naval commanders in that
department,* to burn all picket-stations, and all villages
from which I should be covertly attacked, and nothing
else ; and as this house was destined to the flames, I
should have left the piano in it, but for the seductions of
that box. With such a receptacle all ready, even to the
cover, it would have seemed like flying in the face of
Providence not to put the piano in. I ordered it re-
moved, therefore, and afterwards presented it to the
school for colored children at Fernandina. This I men-
tion because it was the only article of property I ever
took, or knowingly suffered to be taken, in the enemy's
country, save for legitimate military uses, from first to
last ; nor would I have taken this, but for the thought of
the school, and, as aforesaid, the temptation of the box.
If any other officer has been more rigid, with equal oppor-
tunities, let him cast the first stone.

I think the zest with which the men finally set fire to
the house at my order was enhanced by this previous
abstemiousness ; but there is a fearful fascination in the

* " It is my desire to avoid the destruction of private property,
unless used for picket or guard-stations, or for other military purposes,
by the enemy. ... Of course, if fired upon from any place, it is your
duty, if possible, to destroy it." — Letter of Admiral Dupont,
commanding South Atlantic Squadron, to Lieutenant-Commander
Hughes of United Stales Gunboat Mohawk, Fernandina Harbor.

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

79

use of fire, which every child knows in the abstract, and
which I found to hold true in the practice. On our way
down river we had opportunity to test this again.

The ruined town of St. Mary's had at that time a bad
reputation, among both naval and military men. Lying
but a short distance above Fernandina, on the Georgia
side, it was occasionally visited by our gunboats. I was
informed that the only residents of the town were three
old women, who were apparently kept there as spies, —
that, on our approach, the aged crones would come out
and wave white handkerchiefs, — that they would receive
us hospitably, profess to be profoundly loyal, and exhibit
a portrait of Washington, — that they would solemnly
assure us that no Rebel pickets had been there for many
weeks, — but that in the adjoining yard we should find
fresh horse-tracks, and that we should be fired upon by
guerillas the moment we left the wharf. My officers had
been much excited by these tales ; and I had assured
them that, if this programme were literally carried out,
we would straightway return «and burn the town, or what
was left of it, for our share. It was essential to show my
officers and men that, while rigid against irregular out-
rage, we could still be inexorable against the enemy.

We had previously planned to stop at this town, on
our way down river, for some valuable lumber which we
had espied on a wharf ; and gliding down the swift cur-
rent, shelling a few bluffs as \te passed, we soon reached
it. Punctual as the figures in a panorama appeared the
old ladies with their white handkerchiefs. Taking pos-
session of the town, much of which had previously been
destroyed by the gunboats, and stationing the color-guard,
to their infinite delight, in the cupola of the most con-
spicuous house, I deployed skirmishers along the exposed

80

UP THE ST. MARY'S,

suburb, and set a detail of men at work on the lumber.

After a stately and decorous interview with the queens of
society of St. Mary's, — is it Scott who says that nothing
improves the manners like piracy ? — I peacefully with-
drew the men when the work was done. There were
faces of disappointment among the officers, — for all felt a
spirit of mischief after the last night's adventure, — when,
just as we had fairly swung out into the stream and were
under way, there came, like the sudden burst of a trop-
ical tornado, a regular little hail-storm of bullets into the
open end of the boat, driving every gunner in an instant
from his post, and surprising even those who were look-
ing to be surprised. The shock was but for a second ;
and though the bullets had pattered precisely like the
sound of hail upon the iron cannon, yet nobody was hurt.
With very respectable promptness, order was restored,
our own shells were flying into the woods from which the
attack proceeded, and we were steaming up to the wharf
again, according to promise.

Who shall describe the theatrical attitudes assumed by
the old ladies as they reappeared at the front-door, —
being luckily out of direct range, — and set the handker-
chiefs in wilder motion than ever? They brandished
them, they twirled them after the manner of the domestic
mop, they clasped their hands, handkerchiefs included.
Meanwhile their friends in the wood popped away stead-
ily at us, with small effect ; and occasionally an invisible
field-piece thundered feebly from another quarter, with
equally invisible results. Reaching the wharf, one com-
pany, under Lieutenant (now Captain) Danilson, was
promptly deployed in search of our assailants, who soon
grew silent. Not so the old ladies, when I announced to
them my purpose, and added, with extreme regret, that,

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

81

as the wind was high, I should burn only that half of the
town which lay to leeward of their house, which did not,
after all, amount to much. Between gratitude for this
degree of mercy, and imploring appeals for greater, the
treacherous old ladies manoeuvred with clasped hands
and demonstrative handkerchiefs around me, impairing
the effect of their eloquence by constantly addressing me
as " Mr. Captain " ; for I have observed, that, while the
sternest officer is greatly propitiated by attributing to him
a rank a little higher than his own, yet no one is ever
mollified by an error in the opposite direction. I tried,
however, to disregard such low considerations, and to
strike the correct mean between the sublime patriot and
the unsanctified incendiary, while I could find no refuge
from weak contrition save in greater and greater depths
of courtesy ; and so melodramatic became our interview
that some of the soldiers still maintain that " dem dar ole
Secesh women been a-gwine for kiss de Gunnel," before
we ended. But of this monstrous accusation I wish to
register an explicit denial, once for all.

Dropping down to Fernandina unmolested after this
affair, we were kindly received by the military and naval
commanders, — Colonel Hawley, of the Seventh Connec-
ticut (now Brigadier- General Hawley), and Lieutenant-
Commander Hughes, of the gunboat Mohawk. It turned
out very opportunely that both of these officers had spe-
cial errands to suggest still farther up the St. Mary's,
and precisely in the region where I wished to go. Colonel
Hawley showed me a letter from the War Department,
requesting him to ascertain the possibility of obtaining a
supply of brick for Fort Clinch from the brickyard which
had furnished the original materials, but which had not
been visited since the perilous river-trip of the Ottawa.

4 * P

82

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

Lieutenant Hughes wished to obtain information for the
Admiral respecting a Rebel steamer, — the Berosa, —
said to be lying somewhere up the river, and awaiting
her chance to run the blockade. I jumped at the oppor-
tunity. Berosa and brickyard, — both were near Wood-
stock, the former home of Corporal Sutton ; he was ready
and eager to pilot us up the river ; the moon would be
just right that evening, setting at 3h. 19m. a. m. ; and
our boat was precisely the one to undertake the expedi-
tion. Its double-headed shape was just what was needed
in that swift and crooked stream ; the exposed pilot-
houses had been tolerably barricaded with the thick
planks from St. Simon's ; and we further obtained some
sand-bags from Fort Clinch, through the aid of Captain
Sears, the officer in charge, who had originally suggested
the expedition after brick. In return for this aid, the
Planter was sent back to the wharf at St. Mary's, to
bring away a considerable supply of the same precious
article, which we had observed near the wharf. Mean-
while the John Adams was coaling from naval supplies,
through . the kindness of Lieutenant Hughes ; and the
Ben De Ford was taking in the lumber which we had
yesterday brought down. It was a great disappointment
to be unable to take the latter vessel up the river ; but I
was unwillingly convinced that, though the depth of water
might be sufficient, yet her length would be unmanage-
able in the swift current and sharp turns. The Planter
must also be sent on a separate cruise, as her weak and
disabled machinery made her useless for my purpose.
Two hundred men were therefore transferred, as before,
to the narrow hold of the John Adams, in addition to the
company permanently stationed on board to work the
guns. At seven o'clock on the evening of January 29th,
beneath a lovely moon, we steamed up the river.

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

83

Never shall I forget the mystery and excitement of
that night. I know nothing in life more fascinating than
the nocturnal ascent of an unknown river, leading far
into an enemy's country, where one glides in the dim
moonlight between dark hills and meadows, each turn of
the channel making it seem like an inland lake, and cut-
ting you off as by a barrier from all behind, — with no
sign of human life, but an occasional picket-fire left glim-
mering beneath the bank, or the yelp of a dog from some
low-lying plantation. On such occasions every nerve is
strained to its utmost tension ; all dreams of romance
appear to promise immediate fulfilment ; all lights on
board the vessel are obscured, loud voices are hushed ;
you fancy a thousand men on shore, and yet see nothing ;
the lonely river, unaccustomed to furrowing keels, lapses
by the vessel with a treacherous sound ; and all the senses
are merged in a sort of anxious trance. Three times I
have had in full perfection this fascinating experience ;
but that night was the first, and its zest was the keenest.
It will come back to me in dreams, if I live a thousand
years.

I feared no attack during our ascent, — that danger
was for our return ; but I feared the intricate navigation
of the river, though I did not fully know, till the actual
experience, how dangerous it was. We passed without
trouble far above the scene of our first fight, — the Bat-
tle of the Hundred Pines, as my officers had baptized it ;
and ever, as we ascended, the banks grew steeper, the
current swifter, the channel more tortuous and more en-
cumbered with projecting branches and drifting wood.
No piloting less skilful than that of Corporal Sutton and
his mate, James Bezzard, could have carried us through,
I thought ; and no side-wheel steamer less strong than a

84

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

ferry-boat could have borne the crash and force with
which we struck the wooded banks of the river. But the
powerful paddles, built to break the Northern ice, could
crush the Southern pine as well ; and we came safely out
of entanglements that at first seemed formidable. We
had the tide with us, which makes steering far more diffi-
cult ; and, in the sharp angles of the river, there was
often no resource but to run the bow boldly on shore, let
the stern swing round, and then reverse the motion. As
the reversing machinery was generally out of order, the
engineer stupid or frightened, and the captain excited,
this involved moments of tolerably concentrated anxiety.
Eight times we grounded in the upper waters, and once
lay aground for half an hour ; but at last we dropped
anchor before the little town of Woodstock, after moon-
set and an hour before daybreak, just as I had planned,
and so quietly that scarcely a dog barked, and not a soul
in the town, as we afterwards found, knew of our arrival.

As silently as possible, the great flat-boat which we had
brought from St. Simon's was filled with men. Major
Strong was sent on shore with two companies, — those
of Captain James and Captain Metcalf, — with instruc-
tions to surround the town quietly, allow no one to leave
it, molest no one, and hold as temporary prisoners every
man whom he found. I watched them push off into the
darkness, got the remaining force ready to land, and then
paced the deck for an hour in silent watchfulness, waiting
for rifle-shots. Not a sound came from the shore, save
the barking of dogs and the morning crow of cocks ; the
time seemed interminable ; but when daylight came, I
landed, and found a pair of scarlet trousers pacing on
their beat before every house in the village, and a small
squad of prisoners, stunted and forlorn as FalstafPs rag-

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

85

ged regiment, already in hand. I observed with delight
the good demeanor of my men towards these folorn
Anglo-Saxons, and towards the more tumultuous women.
Even one soldier, who threatened to throw an old ter-
magant into the river, took care to append the courteous
epithet " Madam."

I took a survey of the premises. The chief house, a
pretty one with picturesque outbuildings, was that of Mrs.
A., who owned the mills and lumber-wharves adjoining.
The wealth of these wharves had not been exaggerated.
There was lumber enough to freight half a dozen steam-
ers, and I half regretted that I had agreed to take down
a freight of bricks instead. Further researches made me
grateful that I had already explained to my men the dif-
ference between public foraging and private plunder.
Alongr the river-bank I found building after building
crowded witli costly furniture, all neatly packed, just as
it was sent up from St. Mary's when that town was aban-
doned. Pianos were a drug ; china, glass-ware, mahog-
any, pictures, all were here. And here were my men,
who knew that their own labor had earned for their mas-
ters these luxuries, or such as these ; their own wives and
children were still sleeping on the floor, perhaps, at Beau-
fort or Fernandina; and yet they submitted, almost with-
out a murmur, to the enforced abstinence. Bed and
bedding for our hospitals they might take from those
store-rooms, — such as the surgeon selected, — also an
old flag which we found in a corner, and an old field-
piece (which the regiment still possesses), — but after
this the doors were closed and left unmolested. It cost
a struggle to some of the men, whose wives were desti-
tute, I know ; but their pride was very easily touched,
and when this abstinence was once recognized as a rule,

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UP THE ST. MARY'S.

they claimed it as an honor, in this and all succeeding
expeditions. I flatter myself that, if they had once been
set upon wholesale plundering, they would have done it
as thoroughly as their betters ; but I have always been
infinitely grateful, both for the credit and for the disci-
pline of the regiment, — as well as for the men's subse-
quent lives, — that the opposite method was adopted.

When the morning was a little advanced, I called on
Mrs. A., who received me in quite a stately way at her
own door with " To what am I indebted for the honor of
this visit, Sir ? " The foreign name of the family, and
the tropical look of the buildings, made it seem (as, in-
deed, did all the rest of the adventure) like a chapter out
of " Amyas Leigh " ; but as I had happened to hear that
the lady herself was a Philadelphian, and her deceased
husband a New-Yorker, I could not feel even that modi-
cum of reverence due to sincere Southerners. However,
I wished to present my credentials ; so, calling up my
companion, I said that I believed she had been previously
acquainted with Corporal Robert Sutton ? I never saw
a finer bit of unutterable indignation than came over the
face of my hostess, as she slowly recognized him. She
drew herself up, and dropped out the monosyllables of
her answer as if they were so many drops of nitric acid.
" Ah," quoth my lady, " we called him Bob ! "

It was a group for a painter. The whole drama of the
war seemed to reverse itself in an instant, and my tall,
well-dressed, imposing, philosophic Corporal dropped
down the immeasurable depth into a mere plantation
" Bob " again. So at least in my imagination ; not to
that person himself. Too essentially dignified in his na-
ture to be moved by words where substantial realities
wTere in question, he simply turned from the lady, touched

UP THE ST MARY'S.

87

his hat to me. and asked if I would wish to see the slave-
jail, as he had the keys in his possession.

If he fancied that I was in danger of being overcome
by blandishments, and needed to be recalled to realities,
it was a master-stroke.

I must say that, when the door of that villanous edi-
fice was thrown open before me, I felt glad that my main
interview with its lady proprietor had passed before I
saw it. It was a small building, like a Northern corn-
barn, and seemed to have as prominent and as legitimate
a place among the outbuildings of the establishment. In
the middle of the door was a large staple with a rusty
chain, like an ox-chain, for fastening a victim down.
When the door had been opened after the death of the
late proprietor, my informant said, a man was found pad-
locked in that chain. We found also three pairs of stocks
of various construction, two of which had smaller as well
as larger holes, evidently for the feet of women or chil-
dren. In a building near by we found something far
more complicated, which was perfectly unintelligible till
the men explained all its parts : a machine so contrived
that a person once imprisoned in it could neither sit, stand,
nor lie, but must support the body half raised, in a posi-
tion scarcely endurable. I have since bitterly reproached
myself for leaving this piece of ingenuity behind ; but it
would have cost much labor to remove it, and to bring
away the other trophies seemed then enough. I remem-
ber the unutterable loathing with which I leaned against
the door of that prison-house ; I had thought myself sea-
soned to any conceivable horrors of Slavery, but it seemed
as if the visible presence of that den of sin would choke
me. Of course it would have been burned to the ground
by us, but that this would have involved the sacrifice of

88

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

every other building and all the piles of lumber, and for
the moment it seemed as if the sacrifice would be right-
eous. But I forbore, and only took as trophies the in-
struments of torture and the keys of the jail.

We found but few colored people in this vicinity ; some
we brought away with us, and an old man and woman
preferred to remain. All the white males whom we found
I took as hostages, in order to shield us, if possible, from
attack on our way down river, explaining to them that
they would be put on shore when the dangerous points
were passed. I knew that their wives could easily send
notice of this fact to the Rebel forces along the river.
My hostages were a forlorn-looking set of " crackers,"
far inferior to our soldiers in physique, and yet quite
equal, the latter declared, to the average material of the
Southern armies. None were in uniform, but this proved
nothing as to their being soldiers. One of them, a mere
boy, was captured at his own door, with gun in hand. It
was a fowling-piece, which he used only, as his mother
plaintively assured me, " to shoot little birds with." As
the guileless youth had for this purpose loaded the gun
with eighteen buck-shot, we thought it justifiable to con-
fiscate both the weapon and the owner, in mercy to the
birds.

We took from this place, for the use of the army, a
flock of some thirty sheep, forty bushels of rice, some
other provisions, tools, oars, and a little lumber, leaving
all possible space for the bricks which we expected to
obtain just below. I should have gone farther up the
river, but for a dangerous boom which kept back a great
number of logs in a large brook that here fell into the
St. Mary's ; the stream ran with force, and if the Rebels
had wit enough to do it, they might in ten minutes so

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

89

choke the river with drift-wood as infinitely to enhance
our troubles. So we dropped down stream a mile or
two, found the very brickyard from which Fort Clinch
had been constructed, — still stored with bricks, and
seemingly unprotected. Here Sergeant Rivers again
planted his standard, and the men toiled eagerly, for sev-
eral hours, in loading our boat to the utmost with the
bricks. Meanwhile we questioned black and white wit-
nesses, and learned for the first time that the Rebels
admitted a repulse at Township Landing, and that Lieu-
tenant Jones and ten of their number were killed, —
though this I fancy to have been an exaggeration. They
also declared that the mysterious steamer Berosa was
lying at the head of the river, but was a broken-down
and worthless affair, and would never get to sea. The
result has since proved this ; for the vessel subsequently
ran the blockade and foundered near shore, the crew
barely escaping with their lives. I had the pleasure, as
it happened, of being the first person to forward this in-
formation to Admiral Dupont, when it came through the
pickets, many months after, — thus concluding my report
on the Berosa.

Before the work at the yard was over the pickets re-
ported mounted men in the woods near by, as had pre-
viously been the report at Woodstock. This admonished
us to lose no time ; and as we left the wharf, immediate
arrangements were made to have the gun-crews all in
readiness, and to keep the rest of the men below, since
their musketry would be of little use now, and I did not
propose to risk a life unnecessarily. The chief obstacle
to this was their own eagerness ; penned down on one
side, they popped up on the other ; their officers, too,
were eager to see what was going on, and were almost

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UP THE ST. MARY'S.

as hard to cork down as the men. Add to this, that the
vessel was now very crowded, and that I had to be chiefly
on the hurricane-deck with the pilots. Captain Clifton,
master of the vessel, was brave to excess, and as much
excited as the men ; he could no more be kept in the
little pilot-house than they below ; and when we had
passed one or two bluffs, with no sign of an enemy, he
grew more and more irrepressible, and exposed himself
conspicuously on the upper deck. Perhaps we all were
a little lulled by apparent safety ; for myself, I lay down
for a moment on a settee in a state-room, having been on
my feet, almost without cessation, for twenty-four hours.

Suddenly there swept down from a bluff above us, on
the Georgia side, a mingling of shout and roar and rattle
as of a tornado let loose ; and as a storm of bullets came
pelting against the sides of the vessel, and through a win-
dow, there went up a shrill answering shout from our
own men. It took but an instant for me to reach the
gun-deck. After all my efforts the men had swarmed
once more from below, and already, crowding at both
ends of the boat, were loading and firing with inconceiv-
able rapidity, shouting to each other, " Nebber gib it
up ! " and of course having no steady aim, as the vessel
glided and whirled in the swift current. Meanwhile the
officers in charge of the large guns had their crews in
order, and our shells began to fly over the bluffs, which,
as we now saw, should have been shelled in advance,
only that we had to economize ammunition. The other
soldiers I drove below, almost by main force, with the
aid of their officers, who behaved exceedingly well, giv-
ing the men leave to fire from the open port-holes which
lined the lower deck, almost at the water's level. In the
very midst of the melee Major Strong came from the

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

91

upper deck, with a face of horror, and whispered to me,
" Captain Clifton was killed at the first shot by my side."

If he had said that the vessel was on fire the shock
would hardly have been greater. Of course, the military
commander on board a steamer is almost as helpless as
an unarmed man, so far as the risks of water go. A
seaman must command there. In the hazardous voyage
of last night, I had learned, though unjustly, to distrust
every official on board the steamboat except this excit-
able, brave, warm-hearted sailor ; and now, among these
added dangers, to lose him ! The responsibility for his
life also thrilled me ; he was not among my soldiers, and
yet he was killed. I thought of his wife and children, of
whom he had spoken ; but one learns to think rapidly in
war, and, cautioning the Major to silence, I went up to
the hurricane-deck and drew in the helpless body, that it
should be safe from further desecration, and then looked
to see where we were.

We were now gliding past a safe reach of marsh, while
our assailants were riding by cross-paths to attack us at
the next bluff. It was Reed's Bluff where we were first
attacked, and Scrubby Bluff, I think, was next. They
were shelled in advance, but swarmed manfully to the
banks again as we swept round one of the sharp angles
of the stream beneath their fire. My men were now
pretty well imprisoned below in the hot and crowded
hold, and actually fought each other, the officers after-
wards said, for places at the open port- holes, from which
to aim. Others implored to be landed, exclaiming that
they u supposed de Cunnel knew best" but it was
* mighty mean " to be shut up down below, when they
might be "fightin' de Secesh in de clar field" This
clear field, and no favor, was what they thenceforward

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UP THE ST MARY'S.

sighed for. But in such difficult navigation it would
have been madness to think of landing, although one
daring Rebel actually sprang upon the large boat which
we towed astern, where he was shot down by one of our
sergeants. This boat was soon after swamped and aban-
doned, then taken and repaired by the Rebels at a later
date, and finally, by a piece of dramatic completeness,
was seized by a party of fugitive slaves, who escaped in
it to our lines, and some of whom enlisted in my own
regiment.

It has always been rather a mystery to me why the
Rebels did not fell a few trees across the stream at some
of the many sharp angles where we might so easily have
been thus imprisoned. This, however, they did not at-
tempt, and with the skilful pilotage of our trusty Corporal,
— philosophic as Socrates through all the din, and occa-
sionally relieving his mind by taking a shot with his rifle
through the high port-holes of the pilot-house, — we
glided safely on. The steamer did not ground once on
the descent, and the mate in command, Mr. Smith, did
his duty very well. The plank sheathing of the pilot-
house was penetrated by few bullets, though struck by so
many outside that it was visited as a curiosity after our
return ; and even among the gun-crews, though they had
no protection, not a man was hurt. As we approached
some wooded bluff, usually on the Georgia side, we could
see galloping along the hillside what seemed a regiment
of mounted riflemen, and could see our shell scatter them
ere we approached. Shelling did not, however, prevent
a rather fierce fusilade from our old friends of Captain
Clark's company at Waterman's Bluff, near Township
Landing ; but even this did no serious damage, and this
was the last.

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

93

It was of coarse impossible, while thus running the
gauntlet, to put our hostages ashore, and I could only
explain to them that they must thank their own friends
for their inevitable detention. I was by no means proud
of their forlorn appearance, and besought Colonel Haw-
ley to take them off my hands ; but he was sending no
flags of truce at that time, and liked their lo&ks no better
than I did. So I took them to Port Royal, where they
were afterwards sent safely across the lines. Our men
were pleased at taking them back with us, as they had
already said, regretfully, a S'pose we leave dem Secesh
at Fernandina, General Saxby won't see 'em;' — as if
they were some new natural curiosity, which indeed they
were. One soldier further suggested the expediency of
keeping them permanently in camp, to be used as marks
for the guns of the relieved guard every morning. But
this was rather an ebullition of fancy than a sober propo-
sition.

Against these levities I must put a piece of more tragic
eloquence, which I took down by night on the steamer's
deck from the thrilling harangue of Corporal Adam All-
ston, one of our most gifted prophets, whose influence
over the men was unbounded. u When I heard," he said,
u de bombshell a-screamin' troo de woods like de Judg-
ment Day, I said to myself, • If my head was took off to-
night, dey could n't put my soul in de torments, perceps
[except] God was my enemy ! 1 And when de rifle-bul-
lets came whizzin' across de deck, I cried aloud, 1 God
help my congregation ! Boys, load and fire ! 9 "

I must pass briefly over the few remaining days of our
jeruise. At Fernandina we met the Planter, which had
been successful on her separate expedition, and had de-
stroyed extensive salt-works at Crooked River, under

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UP THE ST. MARY'S.

charge of the energetic Captain Trowbridge, efficiently
aided by Captain Rogers. Our commodities being in
part delivered at Fernandina, our decks being full, coal
nearly out, and time up, we called once more at St.
Simon's Sound, bringing away the remainder of our
railroad-iron, with some which the naval officers had pre-
viously disinterred, and then steamed back to Beaufort.
Arriving there at sunrise (February 2, 1863), I made
my way with Dr. Rogers to General Saxton's bedroom,
and laid before him the keys and shackles of the slave-
prison, with my report of the good conduct of the men,
— as Dr. Rogers remarked, a message from heaven and
another from hell.

Slight as this expedition now seems among the vast
events of the war, the future student of the newspapers
of that day will find that it occupied no little space in their
columns, so intense was the interest which then attached
to the novel experiment of employing black troops. So
obvious, too, was the value, during this raid, of their local
knowledge and their enthusiasm, that it was impossible
not to find in its successes new suggestions for the war.
Certainly I would not have consented to repeat the en-
terprise with the bravest white troops, leaving Corporal
Sutton and his mates behind, for I should have expected
to fail. For a year after our raid the Upper St. Mary's •
remained unvisited, till in 1864 the large force with
which we held Florida secured peace upon its banks ;
then Mrs. A. took the oath of allegiance, the Government
bought her remaining lumber, and the John Adams again
ascended with a detachment of my men under Lieutenant
Parker, and brought a portion of it to Fernandina. By
a strange turn of fortune, Corporal Sutton (now Ser-
geant) was at this time in jail at Hilton Head, under

UP THE ST. MARY'S.

95

sentence of court-martial for an alleged act of mutiny, —
an affair in which the general voice of our officers sus-
tained him and condemned his accusers, so that he soon
received a full pardon, and was restored in honor to his
place in the regiment, which he has ever since held.

Nothing can ever exa^^erate the fascinations of war,
whether on the largest or smallest scale. When we set-
tled down into camp-life again, it seemed like a butterfly's
folding its wings to re-enter the chrysalis. None of us
could listen to the crack of a gun without recalling in-
stantly the sharp shots that spilled down from the bluffs
of the St. Mary's, or hear a sudden trampling of horse-
men by night without recalling the sounds which startled
us on the Field of the Hundred Pines. The memory of
our raid was preserved in the camp by many legends of
adventure, growing vaster and more incredible as time
wore on, — and by the morning appeals to the surgeon
of some veteran invalids, who could now cut off all re-
proofs and suspicions with " Doctor, I 'a been a sickly
pusson eber since de expeditious" But to me the most
vivid remembrancer was the flock of sheep which we had
M lifted." The Post Quartermaster discreetly gave us the
charge of them, and they filled a gap in the landscape and
in the larder, — which last had before presented one un-
varied round of impenetrable beef. Mr. Obadiah Old-
buck, wrhen he decided to adopt a pastoral life, and
assumed the provisional name of Thyrsis, never looked
upon his flocks and herds with more unalloyed content-
ment than I upon that fleecy family. I had been familiar,
in Kansas, with the metaphor by which the sentiments of
an owner were credited to his property, and had heard
of a proslavery colt and an antislavery cow. The fact
that these sheep were but recently converted from " Se-

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UP THE ST MARY'S.

cesh " sentiments was their crowning charm. Methought
they frisked and fattened in the joy of their deliverance
from the shadow of Mrs. A.'s slave-jail, and gladly
contemplated translation into mutton-broth for sick or
wounded soldiers. The very slaves who once, perchance,
were sold at auction with yon aged patriarch of the flock,
had ndw asserted their humanity, and would devour him
as hospital rations. Meanwhile our shepherd bore a
sharp bayonet without a crook, and I felt myself a peer
of Ulysses and Rob Roy, — those sheep-stealers of less
elevated aims, — when I met in my daily rides these
wandering trophies of our wider wanderings.

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

97

CHAPTER IV.
UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

THERE was not much stirring in the Department of
the South early in 18 63, and the St. Mary's expe-
dition had afforded a new sensation. Of course the few
officers of colored troops, and a larger number who wished
to become such, were urgent for further experiments in
the same line ; and the Florida tax-commissioners were
urgent likewise. I well remember the morning when,
after some preliminary correspondence, I steamed down
from Beaufort, S. C, to Hilton Head, with General
Saxton, Judge S., and one or two others, to have an in-
terview on the matter with Major-General Hunter, then
commanding the Department.

Hilton Head, in those days, seemed always like some
foreign military station in the tropics. The long, low,
white buildings, with piazzas and verandas on the water-
side ; the general impression of heat and lassitude, exist-
ence appearing to pulsate only with the sea-breeze ; the
sandy, almost impassable streets ; and the firm, level
beach, on which everybody walked who could get there :
all these suggested Jamaica or the East Indies. Then
the head-quarters at the end of the beach, the Zouave
sentinels, the successive anterooms, the lounging aids, the
good-natured and easy General, — easy by habit and
energetic by impulse, — all had a certain air of Southern
languor, rather picturesque, but perhaps not altogether
bracing. General Hunter received us, that day, with his
usual kindliness ; there was a good deal of pleasant chat ;

5 G

98

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

Miles O'Reilly was called in to read his latest verses ; and
then we came to the matter in hand.

Jacksonville, on the St. John's River, in Florida, had
been already twice taken and twice evacuated ; having
been occupied by Brigadier- General Wright, in March,
1862, and by Brigadier-General Brannan, in October of
the same year. The second evacuation was by Major-
General Hunter's own order, on the avowed ground that
a garrison of five thousand was needed to hold the place,
and that this force could not be spared. The present
proposition was to take and hold it with a brigade of less
than a thousand men, carrying, however, arms and uni-
forms for twice that number, and a month's rations. The
claim was, that there were fewer rebel troops in the De-
partment than formerly, and that the St. Mary's expedi-
tion had shown the advantage possessed by colored troops,
in local knowledge, and in the confidence of the loyal
blacks. It was also urged, that it was worth while to risk
something, in the effort to hold Florida, and perhaps
bring it back into the Union.

My chief aim in the negotiation was to get the men
into action, and that of the Florida Commissioners to get
them into Florida. Thus far coinciding, we could heart-
ily co-operate ; and though General Hunter made some
reasonable objections, they were yielded more readily than
I had feared; and finally, before half our logical ammuni-
tion was exhausted, the desired permission was given, and
the thing might be considered as done.

We were now to leave, as we supposed forever, the
camp which had thus far been our home. Our vast
amount of surplus baggage made a heavy job in the
loading, inasmuch as we had no wharf, and everything
had to be put on board by means of flat-boats. It was

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

99

completed by twenty-four hours of steady work ; and
after some of the usual uncomfortable delays which wait
on military expeditions, we were at last afloat.

I had tried to keep the plan as secret as possible, and
had requested to have no definite orders, until we should
be on board ship. But this larger expedition was less
within my own hands than was the St. Mary's affair, and
the great reliance for concealment was on certain counter
reports, ingeniously set afloat by some of the Florida
men. These reports rapidly swelled into the most enor-
mous tales, and by the time they reached the New York
newspapers, the expedition was "a great volcano about
bursting, whose lava will burn, flow, and destroy," —
" the sudden appearance in arms of no less than five
thousand negroes," — "a liberating host," — " not the
phantom, but the reality, of servile insurrection." What
the undertaking actually was may be best seen in the in-
structions which guided it.*

In due time, after touching at Fernandina, we reached
the difficult bar of the St. John's, and were piloted safely

* Head-quarters, Beaufort, S. C,
March 5, 1863.

Colonel, — You will please proceed with your command, the First
and Second Regiments South Carolina Volunteers, which are now
embarked upon the steamers John Adams, Boston, and Burnside, to
Fernandina, Florida.

Relying upon your military skill and judgment, I shall give you no
special directions as to your procedure after you leave Fernandina. I
expect, however, that you will occupy Jacksonville, Florida, and in-
trench yourselves there.

The main objects of your expedition are to carry the proclamation
of freedom to the enslaved; to call all loyal men into the service of the
United States; to occupy as much of the State of Florida as possible
with the forces under your command; and to neglect no means con-
sistent with the usages of civilized warfare to weaken, harass, and

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UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

over. Admiral Dupont had furnished a courteous letter
of introduction^ and we were cordially received by Com-
mander Duncan of the Norwich, and Lieutenant Watson,
commanding the Uncas. Like all officers on blockade
duty, they were impatient of their enforced inaction, and
gladly seized the opportunity for a different service. It
was some time since they had ascended as high as Jack-
sonville, for their orders were strict, one vessel's coal was
low, the other was in infirm condition, and there were
rumors of cotton-clads and torpedoes. But they gladly
agreed to escort us up the river, so soon as our own armed
gunboat, the John Adams, should arrive, — she being un-
accountably delayed.

We waited twenty-four hours for her, at the sultry
mouth of that glassy river, watching the great pelicans

annoy those who are in rebellion against the Government of the United
States.

Trusting that the blessing of our Heavenly Father will rest upon
your noble enterprise,

I am yours, sincerely,

E. Saxton,
Brig. -Gen., Mil. Gov. Dept. of the South.

Colonel Higginson, Comdg. Expeditionary Corps.

f Flag Ship Wabash,
Port Royal Harbor, S. C, March 6, 1863.

Sir, — I am informed by Major-General Hunter that he is sending
Colonel Higginson on an important mission in the southerly part of his
Department.

I have not been made acquainted with the objects of this mission,
but any assistance that you can offer Colonel Higginson, which will
not interfere with your other duties, you are authorized to give.
Respectfully your obedient servant,

S. F. Dupont,
Rear-Adm. Comdg. S. Ail. Block. Squad.

To the Senior Officer present at the different Blockading Stations on
the Coast of Georgia and Florida.

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

101

which floated lazily on its tide, or sometimes shooting
one, to admire the great poucji, into which one of the
soldiers could insert his foot, as into a boot. " He hold
one quart," said the admiring experimentalist. u Hi !
boy," retorted another quickly, * neber you bring dat
quart measure in my peck o' corn." The protest came
very promptly, and was certainly fair ; for the strange
receptacle would have held nearly a gallon.

We went on shore, too, and were shown a rather pa-
thetic little garden, which the naval officers had laid out,
indulging a dream of vegetables. They lingered over
the little microscopic sprouts, pointing them out tenderly,
as if they were cradled babies. I have often noticed this
touching weakness, in gentlemen of that profession, on
lonely stations.

We wandered among the bluff-, too, in the little de-
serted hamlet once called " Pilot Town." The ever-
shifting sand had in some cases almost buried the small
houses, and had swept around others a circular drift, at a
few yards' distance, overtopping their eaves, and leaving
each the untouched citadel of this natural redoubt. There
was also a dismantled lighthouse, an object which always
seems the most dreary symbol of the barbarism of war,
when one considers the national beneficence which reared
and kindled it. Despite the service rendered by this
once brilliant light, there were many wrecks which had
been strown upon the beach, victims of the most formid-
able of the Southern river-bars. As I stood with my foot
on the half-buried ribs of one of these vessels, — so dis-
tinctly traced that one might almost fancy them human,
— the old pilot, my companion, told me the story of the
wreck. The vessel had formerly been in the Cuba trade ;
and her owner, an American merchant residing in Ha-

102

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

vana, had christened her for his young daughter. I asked
the name, and was startled to recognize that of a favorite
young cousin of mine, beside the bones of whose repre-
sentative I was thus strangely standing, upon this lonely
shore.

It was well to have something to relieve the anxiety
naturally felt at the delay of the John Adams, — anxiety
both for her safety and for the success of our enterprise.
The Rebels had repeatedly threatened to burn the whole
of Jacksonville, in case of another attack, as they had
previously burned its mills and its great hotel. It seemed
as if the news of our arrival must surely have travelled
thirty miles by this time. All day we watched every
smoke that rose among the wooded hills, and consulted
the compass and the map, to see if that sign announced
the doom of our expected home. At the very last mo-
ment of the tide, just in time to cross the bar that day,
the missing vessel arrived ; all anxieties vanished ; I
transferred my quarters on board, and at two the next
morning we steamed up the river.

Again there was the dreamy delight of ascending an
unknown stream, beneath a sinking moon, into a region
where peril made fascination. Since the time of the first
explorers, I suppose that those Southern waters have
known no sensations so dreamy and so bewitching as
those which this war has brought forth. I recall, in this
case, the faintest sensations of our voyage, as Ponce de
Leon may have recalled those of his wandering search,
in the same soft zone, for the secret of the mystic foun-
tain. I remember how, during that night, 1 looked for
the first time through a powerful night-glass. It had
always seemed a thing wholly inconceivable, that a mere
lens could change darkness into light ; and as I turned

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

103

the instrument on the preceding gunboat, and actually
discerned the man at the wheel and the officers standing
about him, — all relapsing into vague gloom again at the
withdrawal of the glass, — it gave a feeling of childish
delight. Yet it seemed only in keeping with the whole
enchantment of the scene ; and had I been some Alad-
din, convoyed by genii or giants, I could hardly have felt
more wholly a denizen of some world of romance.

But the river was of difficult navigation ; and we be-
gan to feel sometimes, beneath the keel, that ominous,
sliding, grating, treacherous arrest of motion which makes
the heart shudder, as the vessel does. There was some
solicitude about torpedoes, also, — a peril which became
a formidable thing, one year later, in the very channel
where we found none. Soon one of our consorts grounded,
then another, every vessel taking its turn, I believe, and
then in turn getting off, until the Norwich lay hopelessly
stranded, for that tide at least, a few miles below Jack-
sonville, and out of sight of the city, so that she could
not even add to our dignity by her visible presence from
afar.

This was rather a serious matter, as the Norwich was
our main naval reliance, the Uncas being a small steamer
of less than two hundred tons, and in such poor condition
that Commander Duncan, on finding himself aground, at
first quite declined to trust his consort any farther alone.
But, having got thus far, it was plainly my duty to risk
the remainder with or without naval assistance ; and this
being so, the courageous officer did not long object, but
allowed his dashing subordinate to steam up with us to
the city. This left us one naval and one army gunboat ;
and, fortunately, the Burnside, being a black propeller,
always passed for an armed vessel among the Rebels, and
we rather encouraged that pleasing illusion.

104

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

We had aimed to reach Jacksonville at daybreak ; hut
these mishaps delayed us, and we had several hours of
fresh, early sunshine, lighting up the green shores of that
lovely river, wooded to the water's edge, with sometimes an
emerald meadow, opening a vista to some picturesque
house, — all utterly unlike anything we had yet seen in
the South, and suggesting rather the Penobscot or Ken-
nebec. Here and there we glided by the ruins of some
saw-mill burned by the Rebels on General Wright's ap-
proach ; but nothing else spoke of war, except, perhaps,
the silence. It was a delicious day, and a scene of fas-
cination. Our Florida men were wild with delight ; and
when we rounded the point below the city, and saw from
afar its long streets, its brick warehouses, its white cot-
tages, and its overshadowing trees, — all peaceful and
undisturbed by flames, — it seemed, in the men's favorite
phrase, " too much good," and all discipline was merged,
for the moment, in a buzz of ecstasy.

The city was still there for us, at any rate ; though
none knew what perils might be concealed behind those
quiet buildings. Yet there were children playing on the
wharves ; careless men, here and there, lounged down to
look at us, hands in pockets ; a few women came to their
doors, and gazed listlessly upon us, shading their eyes
with their hands. We drew momently nearer, in silence
and with breathless attention. The gunners were at their
posts, and the men in line. It was eight o'clock. We
were now directly opposite the town : yet no sign of dan-
ger was seen ; not a rifle-shot was heard ; not a shell rose
hissing in the air. The Uncas rounded to, and dropped
anchor in the stream ; by previous agreement, I steamed
to an upper pier of the town, Colonel Montgomery to a
lower one ; the little boat-howitzers were run out upon

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

105

the wharves, and presently to the angles of the chief
streets ; and the pretty town was our own without a shot.
In spite of our detention, the surprise had been complete,
and not a soul in Jacksonville had dreamed of our com-
ing.

The day passed quickly, in eager preparations for de-
fence ; the people could or would give us no definite in-
formation about the Rebel camp, which was, however,
known to be near, and our force did not permit our going
out to surprise it. The night following was the most
anxious I ever spent. We were all tired out ; the com-
panies were under arms, in various parts of the town, to
be ready for an attack at any moment. My temporary
quarters were beneath the loveliest grove of linden-trees,
and as I reclined, half-dozing, the mocking-birds sang all
night like nightingales, — their notes seeming to trickle
down through the sweet air from amid the blossoming
boughs. Day brought relief and the sense of due posses-
sion, and we could see what we had won.

Jacksonville was now a United States post again : the
only post on the main-land in the Department of the
South. Before the war it had three or four thousand
inhabitants, and a rapidly growing lumber-trade, for
which abundant facilities were evidently provided. The
wharves were capacious, and the blocks of brick ware-
houses along the lower street were utterly unlike any-
thing we had yet seen in that region, as were the neat-
ness and thrift everywhere visible. It had been built up
by Northern enterprise, and much of the property was
owned by loyal men. It had been a great resort for in-
valids, though the Rebels had burned the large hotel
which once accommodated them. Mills had also been
burned ; but the dwelling-houses were almost all in good
5*

106

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

condition. The quarters for the men were admirable ;
and I took official possession of the handsome brick
house of Colonel Sunderland, the established head-quar-
ters through every occupation, whose accommodating
flag-staff had literally and repeatedly changed its colors.
The seceded Colonel, reputed author of the State ordi-
nance of Secession, was a New-Yorker by birth, and we
found his law-card, issued when in practice in Easton,
Washington County, New York. He certainly had good
taste in planning the inside of a house, though time had
impaired its condition. There was a neat office with
ample bookcases and no books, a billiard-table with no
balls, gas-fixtures without gas, and a bathing-room with-
out water. There was a separate building for servants'
quarters, and a kitchen with every convenience, even to
a few jars of lingering pickles. On the whole, there was
an air of substance and comfort about the town, quite
alien from the picturesque decadence of Beaufort.

The town rose gradually from the river, and was
bounded on the rear by a long, sluggish creek, beyond
which lay a stretch of woods, affording an excellent covert
for the enemy, but without great facilities for attack, as
there were but two or three fords and bridges. This
brook could easily be held against a small force, but could
at any time and at almost any point be readily crossed
by a large one. North of the town the land rose a little,
between the river and the sources of the brook, and then
sank to a plain, which had been partially cleared by a
previous garrison. For so small a force as ours, however,
this clearing must be extended nearer to the town ; oth-
erwise our lines would be too long for our numbers.

This deficiency in numbers at once became a source of
serious anxiety. While planning the expedition, it had

VP THE ST. JOHN'S.

107

seemed so important to get the men a foothold in Florida
that I was willing to risk everything for it. But this
important post once in our possession, it began to show
some analogies to the proverbial elephant in the lottery.
To hold it permanently with nine hundred men was not,
perhaps, impossible, with the aid of a gunboat (I had left
many of my own regiment sick and on duty in Beaufort,
and Colonel Montgomery had as yet less than one hun-
dred and fifty) ; but to hold it, and also to make forays
up the river, certainly required a larger number. We
came in part to recruit, but had found scarcely an able-
bodied negro in the city ; all had been removed farther
up, and we must certainly contrive to follow them. I
was very unwilling to have, as yet, any white troops
under my command, with the blacks. Finally, however,
being informed by Judge S. of a conversation with Colonel
Iiawley, commanding at Fernandina, in which the latter
had offered to send four companies and a light battery to
swell our force, — in view of the aid given to his position
by this more advanced post, I decided to authorize the
energetic Judge to go back to Fernandina and renew the
negotiation, as the John Adams must go thither at any
rate for coal.

Meanwhile all definite display of our force was avoided ;
dress-parades were omitted ; the companies were so dis-
tributed as to tell for the utmost ; and judicious use was
made, here and there, of empty tents. The gunboats and
transports moved impressively up and down the river,
from time to time. The disposition of pickets was varied
each night to perplex the enemy, and some advantage
taken of his distrust, which might be assumed as equalling
our own. The citizens were duly impressed by our sup-
ply of ammunition, which was really enormous, and all

108

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

these things soon took effect. A loyal woman, who came
into town, said that the Rebel scouts, stopping at her
house, reported that there were " sixteen hundred ne-
groes all over the woods, and the town full of them
besides." " It was of no use to go in. General Fin-
negan had driven them into a bad place once, and should
not do it again." " They had lost their captain and their
best surgeon in the first skirmish, and if the Savannah
people wanted the negroes driven away, they might come
and do it themselves." Unfortunately, we knew that
they could easily come from Savannah at any time, as
there was railroad communication nearly all the way ;
and every time we heard the steam-whistle, the men were
convinced of their arrival. Thus we never could ap-
proach to any certainty as to their numbers, while they
could observe, from the bluffs, every steamboat that as-
cended the river.

To render our weak force still more available, we bar-
ricaded the approaches to the chief streets by constructing
barriers or felling trees. It went to my heart to sacrifice,
for this purpose, several of my beautiful lindens ; but it
was no time for aesthetics. As the giants lay on the
ground, still scenting the air with their abundant bloom,
I used to rein up my horse and watch the children play-
ing hide-and-seek among their branches, or some quiet
cow grazing at the foliage. Nothing impresses the mind
in war like some occasional object or association that be-
longs apparently to peace alone.

Among all these solicitudes, it was a great thing that
one particular anxiety vanished in a day. On the former
expedition the men were upon trial as to their courage ;
now they were to endure another test, as to their de-
meanor as victors. Here were five hundred citizens,

UP THE ST. JOHN'S. 109

nearly all white, at the mercy of their former slaves. To
some of these whites it was the last crowning humili-
ation, and they were, or professed to be, in perpetual
fear. On the other hand, the most intelligent and lady-
like woman I saw, the wife of a Rebel captain, rather
surprised me by saying that it seemed pleasanter to have
these men stationed there, whom they had known all their
lives, and who had generally borne a good character, than
to be in the power of entire strangers. Certainly the
men deserved the confidence, for there wTas scarcely an
exception to their good behavior. ■ I think they thor-
oughly felt that their honor and dignity were concerned
in the matter, and took too much pride in their character
as soldiers, — to say nothing of higher motives, — to tar-
nish it by any misdeeds. They watched their officers
vigilantly and even suspiciously, to detect any disposition
towards compromise ; and so long as we pursued a just
course it was evident that they could be relied on. Yet
the spot was pointed out to me where two of our leading
men had seen their brothers hanged by Lynch law ; many
of them had private wTrongs to avenge ; and they all had
utter disbelief in all pretended loyalty, especially on the
part of the women.

One citizen alone was brought to me in a sort of escort
of honor by Corporal Prince Lambkin, — one of the color-
guard, and one of our ablest men, — the same who had
once made a speech in camp, reminding his hearers that
they had lived under the American flag for eighteen hun-
dred and sixty-two years, and ought to live and die under
it. Corporal Lambkin now introduced his man, a Ger-
man, with the highest compliment in his power, " He
hab true colored-man heart." Surrounded by mean,
cajoling, insinuating white men and women who were all

110

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

that and worse, I was quite ready to appreciate the qual-
ity he thus proclaimed. A colored-man heart, in the
Rebel States, is a fair synonyme for a loyal heart, and it
is about the only such synonyme. In this case, I found
afterwards that the man in question, a small grocer, had
been an object of suspicion to the whites from his readi-
ness to lend money to the negroes, or sell to them on
credit ; in which, perhaps, there may have been some
mixture of self-interest with benevolence.

I resort to a note-book of that period, well thumbed
and pocket-worn, which sometimes received a fragment
of the day's experience.

"March 16, 1863.
" Of course, droll things are constantly occurring. Every
white man, woman, and child is flattering, seductive, and
professes Union sentiment ; every black ditto believes
that every white ditto is a scoundrel, and ought to be
shot, but for good order and military discipline. The
Provost Marshal and I steer between them as blandly
as we can. Such scenes as succeed each other ! Rush
of indignant Africans. A white man, in woman's clothes,
has been seen to enter a certain house, — undoubtedly a
spy. Further evidence discloses the Roman Catholic
priest, a peaceful little Frenchman, in his professional
apparel. — Anxious female enters. Some sentinel has
shot her cow by mistake for a Rebel. The United States
cannot think of paying the desired thirty dollars. Let
her go to the Post-Quartermaster and select a cow from
his herd. If there is none to suit her (and, indeed, not
one of them gave a drop of milk, — neither did hers),
let her wait till the next lot comes in, — that is all. —
Yesterday's operations gave the following total yield :
Thirty 4 contrabands/ eighteen horses, eleven cattle, ten

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

Ill

saddles and bridles, and one new army-wagon. At this
rate we shall soon be self-supporting cavalry.

" Where complaints are made of the soldiers, it almost
always turns out that the women have insulted them
most grossly, swearing at them, and the like. One un-
pleasant old Dutch woman came in, bursting with wrath,
and told the whole narrative of her blameless life, diver-
sified with sobs : —

" 4 Last January I ran off two of my black people from
St. Mary's to Fernandina/ (sob,) — 4 then I moved down
there myself, and at Lake City I lost six women and a
boy/ (sob,) — 4 then I stopped at Baldwin for one of the
wenches to be confined/ (sob,) — 4 then I brought them
all here to live in a Christian country ' (sob, sob). 'Then
the blockheads 9 [blockades, that is, gunboats] 4 came, and
they all ran off with the blockheads/ (sob, sob, sob,) 4 and
left me, an old lady of forty-six, obliged to work for a
living/ (Chaos of sobs, without cessation.)

44 But when I found what the old sinner had said to the
soldiers I rather wondered at their self-control in not
throttling her."

Meanwhile skirmishing went on daily in the outskirts
of the town. There was a fight on the very first day,
when our men killed, as before hinted, a Rebel surgeon,
which was oddly metamorphosed in the Southern news-
papers into their killing one of ours, which certainly
never happened. Every day, after this, they appeared
in small mounted squads in the neighborhood, and ex-
changed shots with our pickets, to which the gunboats
would contribute their louder share, their aim being rather
embarrassed by the woods and hills. We made reconnois-
sances, too, to learn the country in different directions,

112

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

and were apt to be fired upon during these. Along the
farther side of what we called the '* Debatable Land "
there was a line of cottages, hardly superior to negro
huts, and almost all empty, where the Rebel pickets re-
sorted, and from whose windows they fired. By de-
grees all these nests were broken up and destroyed,
though it cost some trouble to do it, and the hottest
skirmishing usually took place around them.

Among these little affairs was one which we called
" Company K's Skirmish," because it brought out the
fact that this company, which was composed entirely of
South Carolina men, and had never shone in drill or dis-
cipline, stood near the head of the regiment for coolness
and courage, — the defect of discipline showing itself
only in their extreme unwillingness to halt when once
let loose. It was at this time that the small comedy of
the Goose occurred, — an anecdote which Wendell Phil-
lips has since made his own.

One of the advancing line of skirmishers, usually an
active fellow enough, was observed to move clumsily and
irregularly. It soon appeared that he had encountered
a fine specimen of the domestic goose, which had surren-
dered at discretion. Not wishing to lose it, he could yet
find no way to hold it but between his legs ; and so he
went on, loading, firing, advancing, halting, always with
the goose writhing and struggling and hissing in this
natural pair of stocks. Both happily came off unwounded,
and retired in good order at the signal, or some time af-
ter it ; but I have hardly a cooler thing to put on record.

Meanwhile, another fellow left the field less exultingly ;
for, after a thoroughly courageous share in the skirmish,
he came blubbering to his captain, and said, —

" Cappen, make Caesar gib me my cane."

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

113

It seemed that, during some interval of the fighting,
he had helped himself to an armful of Rebel sugar-cane,
such as they all delighted in chewing. The Roman hero,
during another pause, had confiscated the treasure ;
whence these tears of the returning warrior. I never
could accustom myself to these extraordinary intermin-
glings of manly and childish attributes.

Our most untiring scout during this period was the
chaplain of my regiment, — the most restless and daring
spirit we had, and now exulting in full liberty of action.
He it was who was daily permitted to stray singly where
no other officer would have been allowed to go, so irre-
sistible was his appeal, " You know I am only a chap-
lain." Methinks I see our regimental saint, with pistols
in belt and a Ballard rifle slung on shoulder, putting
spurs to his steed, and cantering away down some ques-
tionable wood-path, or returning with some tale of Rebel
haunt discovered, or store of foraging. He would track
an enemy like an Indian, or exhort him, when appre-
hended, like an early Christian. Some of our devout
soldiers shook their heads sometimes over the chaplain's
little eccentricities.

" Woffor Mr. Chapman made a preacher for ? " said
one of them, as usual transforming his title into a patro-
nymic. u He 's de jtghtingest more Yankee I eber see in
all my days."

And the criticism was very natural, though they could
not deny that, when the hour for Sunday service came,
Mr. F. commanded the respect and attention of all.
That hour never came, however, on our first Sunday in
Jacksonville ; we were too busy and the men too scat-
tered ; so the chaplain made his accustomed foray be-
yond the lines instead.

H

114 UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

" Is it not Sunday ? " slyly asked an unregenerate
lieutenant.

" Nay," quoth his Reverence, waxing fervid ; " it is
the Day of Judgment."

This reminds me of a raid up the river, conducted by
one of our senior captains, an enthusiast whose gray
beard and prophetic manner always took me back to
the Fifth-Monarchy men. He was most successful that
day, bringing back horses, cattle, provisions, and pris-
oners ; and one of the latter complained bitterly to me
of being held, stating that Captain R. had promised him
speedy liberty. But that doughty official spurned the
imputation of such weak blandishments, in this day of
triumphant retribution.

" Promise him ! " said he, " I promised him nothing
but the Day of Judgment and Periods of Damnation ! "

Often since have I rolled beneath my tongue this sav-
ory and solemn sentence, and I do not believe that since
the days of the Long Parliament there has been a more
resounding anathema.

In Colonel Montgomery's hands these up-river raids
reached the dignity of a fine art. His conceptions of
foraging were rather more Western and liberal than
mine, and on these excursions he fully indemnified him-
self for any undue abstinence demanded of him when in
camp. I remember being on the wharf, with some naval
officers, when he came down from his first trip. The
steamer seemed an animated hen-coop. Live poultry
hung from the foremast shrouds, dead ones from the
mainmast, geese hissed from the binnacle, a pig paced
the quarter-deck, and a duck's wings were seen fluttering
from a line which was wont to sustain duck-trousers.
The naval heroes, mindful of their own short rations, and

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

115

taking high views of one's duties in a conquered country,
looked at me reproachfully, as who should say, " Shall
these things be ? n In a moment or two the returning
foragers had landed.

M Captain ," said Montgomery, courteously, " would

you allow me to send a remarkably fine turkey for your
use on board ship ? "

" Lieutenant ," said Major Corwin, "may I ask

your acceptance of a pair of ducks for your mess ? "

Never did I behold more cordial relations between
army and navy than sprang into existence at those sen-
tences. So true it is, as Charles Lamb says, that a sin-
gle present of game may diffuse kindly sentiments through
a whole community.

These little trips were called " rest " ; there was no
other rest during those ten days. An immense amount
of picket and fatigue duty had to be done. Two redoubts
were to be built to command the Northern Valley ; all
the intervening grove, which now afforded lurking-
ground for a daring enemy, must be cleared away ; and
a few houses must be reluctantly razed for the same pur-
pose. The fort on the left was named Fort Higginson,
and that built by%my own regiment, in return, Fort
Montgomery. The former was necessarily a hasty work,
and is now, I believe, in ruins ; the latter was far more
elaborately constructed, on lines well traced by the Fourth
New Hampshire during the previous occupation. It did
great credit to Captain Trowbridge, of my regiment (for-
merly of the New York Volunteer Engineers), who had
charge of its construction.

How like a dream seems now that period of daily skir-
mishes and nightly watchfulness ! The fatigue was so
constant that the days hurried by. I felt the need of

116

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

some occasional change of ideas, and having just received
from the North Mr. Brook's beautiful translation of Jean
Paul's " Titan," I used to retire to my bedroom for some
ten minutes every afternoon, and read a chapter or two.
It was more refreshing than a nap, and will always be to
me one of the most fascinating books in the world, with
this added association. After all, what concerned me
wTas not so much the fear of an attempt to drive us out
and retake the city, — for that would be against the
whole policy of the Rebels in that region, — as of an
effort to fulfil their threats and burn it, by some noc-
turnal dash. The most valuable buildings belonged to
Union men, and the upper part of the town, built chiefly
of resinous pine, was combustible to the last degree. In
case of fire, if the wind blew towards the river, we might
lose steamers and all. I remember regulating my degree
of disrobing by the direction of the wind ; if it blew from
the river, it was safe to make one's self quite comfort-
able ; if otherwise, it was best to conform to Suwarrow's
idea of luxury, and take off one spur.

So passed our busy life for ten days. There were no
tidings of reinforcements, and I hardly knew whether I
wished for them, — or rather, I desired them as a choice
of evils ; for our men were giving out from overwork, and
the recruiting excursions, for which we had mainly come,
were hardly possible. At the utmost, I had asked for
the addition of four companies and a light battery. Judge
of my surprise when two infantry regiments successively
arrived ! I must resort to a scrap from the diary. Per-
haps diaries are apt to be thought tedious ; but I would
rather read a page of one, whatever the events described,
than any more deliberate narrative, — it gives glimpses
so much more real and vivid.

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

117

" Head-quarters, Jacksonville,

March 20, 1863, Midnight.

u For the last twenty-four hours we have been sending
women and children out of town, in answer to a demand
by flag of truce, with a threat of bombardment. [N. B.
I advised them not to go, and the majority declined doing
so.] It was designed, no doubt, to intimidate ; and in
our ignorance of the force actually outside, we have had
to recognize the possibility of danger, and work hard at
our defences. At any time, by going into the outskirts,
we can have a skirmish, which is nothing but fun ; but
when night closes in over a small and weary garrison,
there sometimes steals into my mind, like a chill, that
most sickening of all sensations, the anxiety of a com-
mander. This was the night generally set for an attack,
if any, though I am pretty well satisfied that they have
not strength to dare it, and the worst they could probably
do is to burn the town. But to-night, instead of enemies,
appear friends, — our devoted civic ally, Judge S., and
a whole Connecticut regiment, the Sixth, under Major
Meeker ; and though the latter are aground, twelve miles
below, yet they enable one to breathe more freely. I
only wish they were black ; but now I have to show, not
only that blacks can fight, but that they and white soldiers
can act in harmony together."

That evening the enemy came uf) for a reconnoissance,
in the deepest darkness, and there were alarms all night.
The next day the Sixth Connecticut got afloat, and came
up the river ; and two days after, to my continued amaze-
ment, arrived a part of the Eighth Maine, under Lieu-
tenant-Colonel Twichell. This increased my command
to four regiments, or parts of regiments, half white and

118

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

half black. Skirmishing had almost ceased, — our de-
fences being tolerably complete, and looking from without
much more effective than they really were. We were
safe from any attack by a small force, and hoped that the
enemy could not spare a large one from Charleston or
Savannah. All looked bright without, and gave leisure
for some small anxieties within.

It was the first time in the war (so far as I know) that
white and black soldiers had served together on regular
duty. Jealousy was still felt towards even the officers of
colored regiments, and any difficult contingency would be
apt to bring it out. The white soldiers, just from ship-
board, felt a natural desire to stray about the town ; and
no attack from an enemy would be so disastrous as the
slightest collision between them and the black provost-
guard. I shudder, even now, to think of the train of
consequences, bearing on the whole course of subsequent
national events, which one such mishap might then have
produced. It is almost impossible for us now to remem-
ber in what a delicate balance then hung the whole ques-
tion of negro enlistments, and consequently of Slavery.
Fortunately for my own serenity, I had great faith in the
intrinsic power of military discipline, and also knew that
a common service would soon produce mutual respect
among good soldiers ; and so it proved. But the first
twelve hours of this mixed command were to me a
more anxious period than any outward alarms had
created.

Let us resort to the note-book again.

" Jacksonville, March 22, 1863.
" It is Sunday ; the bell is ringing for church, and Rev.
Mr. F., from Beaufort, is to preach. This afternoon our

UP THE ST. JOIIX'S.

119

good quartermaster establishes a Sunday-school for our
little colony of ' contrabands,' now numbering seventy.

" Sunday Afternoon.

u The bewildering report is confirmed ; and in addition
to the Sixth Connecticut, which came yesterday, appears
part of the Eighth Maine. The remainder, with its
colonel, will be here to-morrow, and, report says, Major-
General Hunter. Now my hope is that we may go to
some point higher up the river, which we can hold for
ourselves. There are two other points [Magnolia and
Pilatka], which, in themselves, are as favorable as this,
and, for getting recruits, better. So I shall hope to be
allowed to go. To take posts, and then let white troops
garrison them, — that is my programme.

44 What makes the thing more puzzling is, that the
Eighth Maine has only brought ten days' rations, so that
they evidently are not to stay here ; and yet where they
go, or why they come, is a puzzle. Meanwhile we can
sleep sound o' nights ; and if the black and white babies
do not quarrel and pull hair, we shall eta very well."

Colonel Rust, on arriving, said frankly that he knew
nothing of the plans prevailing in the Department, but
that General Hunter was certainly coming soon to act
for himself ; that it had been reported at the Xorth, and
even at Port Royal, that we had all been captured and
shot (and, indeed, I had afterwards the pleasure of read-
ing my own obituary in a Northern Democratic journal),
and that we certainly needed reinforcements ; that he
himself had been sent with orders to carry out, so far as
possible, the original plans of the expedition ; that he
regarded himself as only a visitor, and should remain
chiefly on shipboard, — which he did. He would relieve

120

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

the black provost-guard by a white one, if I approved, —
which I certainly did. But he said that he felt bound to
give the chief opportunities of action to the colored troops,
— which I also approved, and which he carried out, not
quite to the satisfaction of his own eager and daring
officers.

I recall one of these enterprises, out of which we ex-
tracted a good deal of amusement ; it was baptized the
Battle of the Clothes-Lines. A white company was out
scouting in the woods behind the town, with one of my
best Florida men for a guide ; and the captain sent back
a message that he had discovered a Rebel camp with
twenty-two tents, beyond a creek, about four miles away ;
the officers and men had been distinctly seen, and it
would be quite possible to capture it. Colonel Rust at
once sent me out with two hundred men to do the work,
recalling the original scouts, and disregarding the appeals
of his own eager officers. We marched through the open
pine woods, on a delightful afternoon, and met the return-
ing party. Poor fellows ! I never shall forget the long-
ing eyes they cast on us, as we marched forth to the field
of glory, from which they were debarred. We went
three or four miles out, sometimes halting to send for-
ward a scout, while I made all the men lie down in the
long, thin grass and beside the fallen trees, till one could
not imagine that there was a person there. I remember
how picturesque the effect was, when, at the signal, all
rose again, like Roderick Dhu's men, and the green wood
appeared suddenly populous with armed life. At a cer-
tain point forces were divided, and a detachment was
sent round the head of the creek, to flank the unsuspect-
ing enemy ; while we of the main body, stealing with
caution nearer and nearer, through ever denser woods,

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

121

swooped down at last in triumph upon a solitary farm-
house, — where the family-washing had been hung out
to dry ! This was the " Rebel camp " !

It is due to Sergeant Greene, my invaluable guide, to
say that he had from the beginning discouraged any high
hopes of a crossing of bayonets. He had early explained
that it was not he who claimed to have seen the tents
and the Rebel soldiers, but one of the officers, — and
had pointed out that our undisturbed approach was hardly
reconcilable with the existence of a hostile camp so near.
This impression had also pressed more and more upon
my own mind, but it was our business to put the thing
beyond a doubt. Probably the place may have been
occasionally used for a picket-station, and we found fresh
horse-tracks in the vicinity, and there was a quantity of
iron bridle-bits in the house, of which no clear explana-
tion could be given ; so that the armed men may not
have been wholly imaginary. But camp there was none.
After enjoying to the utmost the fun of the thing, there-
fore, we borrowed the only horse on the premises, hung
all the bits over his neck, and as I rode him back to
camp, they clanked like broken chains. We were joined
on the way by our dear and devoted surgeon, whom I
had left behind as an invalid, but who had mounted his
horse and ridden out alone to attend to our wounded,
his green sash looking quite in harmony with the early
spring verdure of those lovely woods. So came we back
in triumph, enjoying the joke all the more because some
one else was responsible. TVe mystified the little com-
munity at first, but soon let out the secret, and witticisms
abounded for a day or two, the mildest of which was the
assertion that the author of the alarm must have been
" three sheets in the wind."
6

122

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

Another expedition was of more exciting character.
For several days before the arrival of Colonel Rust a
reconnoissance had been planned in the direction of the
enemy's camp, and he finally consented to its being car-
ried out. By the energy of Major Corwin, of the Second
South Carolina Volunteers, aided by Mr. Holden, then a
gunner on the Paul Jones, and afterwards made captain
of the same regiment, one of the ten-pound Parrott guns
had been mounted on a hand-car, for use on the railway.
This it was now proposed to bring into service. I took
a large detail of men from the two white regiments and
from my own, and had instructions to march as far as the
four-mile station on the railway, if possible, examine the
country, and ascertain if the Rebel camp had been re-
moved, as was reported, beyond that distance. I was
forbidden going any farther from camp, or attacking the
Rebel camp, as my force comprised half our garrison, and
should the town meanwhile be attacked from some other
direction, it would be in great danger.

I never shall forget the delight of that march through
the open pine barren, with occasional patches of uncertain
swamp. The Eighth Maine, under Lieutenant- Colonel
Twichell, was on the right, the Sixth Connecticut, under
Major Meeker, on the left, and my own men, under Major
Strong, in the centre, having in charge the cannon, to
which they had been trained. Mr. Heron, from the
John Adams, acted as gunner. The mounted Rebel
pickets retired before us through the woods, keeping
usually beyond range of the skirmishers, who in a long
line — white, black, white — were deployed transversely.
For the first time I saw the two colors fairly alternate on
the military chessboard ; it had been the object of much
labor and many dreams, and I liked the pattern at last.

UP THE ST. JO EX'S.

123

Nothing was said about the novel fact by anybody, — it
all seemed to come as matter-of-course ; there appeared
to be no mutual distrust among the men, and as for the
officers, doubtless u each crow thought its own young the
whitest," — I certainly did, although doing full justice to
the eager courage of the Northern portion of my com-
mand. Especially I watched with pleasure the fresh de-
light of the Maine men, who had not, like the rest, been
previously in action, and who strode rapidly on with
their long legs, irresistibly recalling, as their gaunt, ath-
letic frames and sunburnt faces appeared here and there
among the pines, the lumber regions of their native
State, with which I was not unfamiliar.

TTe passed through a former camp of the Rebels, from
which everything had been lately removed ; but when
the utmost permitted limits of our reconnoissance were
reached, there were still no signs of any other camp, and
the Rebel cavalry still kept provokingly before us. Their
evident object was to lure us on to their own stronghold,
and had we fallen into the trap, it would perhaps have
resembled, on a smaller scale, the Olustee of the follow-
ing year. With a good deal of reluctance, however, I
caused the recall to be sounded, and, after a slight halt,
we began to retrace our steps.

Straining our eyes to look along the reach of level
railway which stretched away through the pine barren,
we began to see certain ominous puffs of smoke, which
might indeed proceed from some fire in the woods, but
were at once set down by the men as coming from the
mysterious locomotive battery which the Rebels were
said to have constructed. Gradually the smoke grew
denser, and appeared to be moving up along the track,
keeping pace with our motion, and about two miles dis-

124

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

tant. I watched it steadily through a field-glass from
our own slowly moving battery : it seemed to move when
we moved and to halt when we halted. Sometimes in
the dim smoke I caught a glimpse of something blacker,
raised high in the air like the threatening head of some
great gliding serpent. Suddenly there came a sharp
puff of lighter smoke that seemed like a forked tongue,
and then a hollow report, and we could see a great black
projectile hurled into the air, and falling a quarter of a
mile away from us, in the woods. I did not at once
learn that this first shot killed two of the Maine men, and
wounded two more. This was fired wide, but the numer-
ous shots which followed were admirably aimed, and sel-
dom failed to fall or explode close to our own smaller
battery.

It was the first time that the men had been seriously
exposed to artillery fire, — a danger more exciting to
the ignorant mind than any other, as this very war has
shown.* So I watched them anxiously. Fortunately
there were deep trenches on each side the railway, with
many stout, projecting roots, forming very tolerable bomb-
proofs for those who happened to be near them. The

* Take this for an example : " The effect was electrical. The Reb-
els were the best men in Ford's command, being Lieutenant-Colonel
Showalter's Californians, and they are brave men. They had dis-
mounted and sent their horses to the rear, and were undoubtedly de-
termined upon a desperate fight, and their superior numbers made
them confident of success. But they never fought with artillery, and
a cannon has more terror for them than ten thousand rifles and all the
wild Camanches on the plains of Texas. At first glimpse of the shin-
ing brass monsters there was a visible wavering in the determined
front of the enemy, and as the shells came screaming over their heads
the scare was complete. They broke ranks, fled for their horses,
scrambled on the first that came to hand, and skedaddled in the direc-
tion of Brownsville," — New York Evening Post, September 25, 1864.

UP THE ST JOHN'S.

125

enemy's gun was a sixty-four-pound Blakely, as we after-
ward found, whose enormous projectiles moved very
slowly and gave ample time to cover, — insomuch, that,
while the fragments of shell fell all around and amongst
us, not a man was hurt. This soon gave the men the
most buoyant confidence, and they shouted with childish
delight over every explosion.

The moment a shell had burst or fallen unburst, our
little gun was invariably fired in return, and that with
some precision, so far as we could judge, its range also
being nearly as great. For some reason they showed
no disposition to overtake us, in which attempt their lo-
comotive would have given them an immense advantage
over our heavy hand-car, and their cavalry force over
our infantry. Nevertheless, I rather hoped that they
would attempt it, for then an effort might have been
made to cut them off in the rear by taking up some rails.
As it was, this was out of the question, though they
moved slowly, as we moved, keeping always about two
miles away. When they finally ceased firing we took
up the rails beyond us before withdrawing, and thus kept
the enemy from approaching so near the city again. But
I shall never forget that Dantean monster, rearing its
black head amid the distant smoke, nor the solicitude
with which I watched for the puff which meant danger,
and looked round to see if my chickens were all under
cover. The greatest peril, after all, was from the pos-
sible dismounting of our gun, in which case we should
have been very apt to lose it, if the enemy had showed
any dash. There may be other such tilts of railway
artillery on record during the war ; but if so, I have not
happened to read of them, and so have dwelt the longer
on this.

126

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

This was doubtless the same locomotive battery which
had previously fired more than once upon the town, —
running up within two miles and then withdrawing, while
it was deemed inexpedient to destroy the railroad, on our
part, lest it might be needed by ourselves in turn. One
night, too, the Rebel threat had been fulfilled, and they
had shelled the town with the same battery. They had
the range well, and every shot fell near the post head-
quarters. It was exciting to see the great Blakely shell,
showing a light as it rose, and moving slowly towards us
like a comet, then exploding and scattering its formidable
fragments. Yet, strange to say, no serious harm was
done to life or limb, and the most formidable casualty
was that of a citizen who complained that a shell h^d
passed through the wall of his bedroom, and carried off
his mosquito curtain in its transit.

Little knew we how soon these small entertainments
would be over. Colonel Montgomery had gone up the
river with his two companies, perhaps to remain per-
manently ; and I was soon to follow. On Friday, March
27th, I wrote home : " The Burnside has gone to
Beaufort for rations, and the John Adams to Fernan-
dina for coal ; we expect both back by Sunday, and on
Monday I hope to get the regiment off to a point farther
up, — Magnolia, thirty-five miles, or Pilatka, seventy-
five, — either of which would be a good post for us.
General Hunter is expected every day, and it is strange
he has not come." The very next day came an official
order recalling the whole expedition, and for the third
time evacuating Jacksonville.

A council of military and naval officers was at once
called (though there was but one thing to be done), and
the latter were even more disappointed and amazed than

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

127

the former. This was especially the case with the senior
naval officer, Captain Steedman, a South-Carolinian by-
birth, but who had proved himself as patriotic as he was
courteous and able, and whose presence and advice had
been of the greatest value to me. He and all of us felt
keenly the wrongfulness of breaking the pledges which
we had been authorized to make to these people, and of
leaving them to the mercy of the Rebels once more.
Most of the people themselves took the same view, and
eagerly begged to accompany us on our departure. They
were allowed to bring their clothing and furniture also,
and at once developed that insane mania for aged and
valueless trumpery which always seizes upon the human
race, I believe, in moments of danger. With the great-
est difficulty we selected between the essential and the
non-essential, and our few transports were at length loaded
to the very water's edge on the morning of March 29 th,

— Colonel Montgomery having by this time returned
from up-river, with sixteen prisoners, and the fruits of
foraging in plenty.

And upon that last morning occurred an act on the
part of some of the garrison most deeply to be regretted,
and not to be excused by the natural indignation at their
recall, — an act which, through the unfortunate eloquence
of one newspaper correspondent, rang through the nation,

— the attempt to burn the town. I fortunately need not
dwell much upon it, as I was not at the time in command
of the post, — as the white soldiers frankly took upon
themselves the whole responsibility, — and as all the
fires were made in the wooden part of the city, which
was occupied by them, while none were made in the
brick part, where the colored soldiers were quartered.
It was fortunate for our reputation that the newspaper

128

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

accounts generally agreed in exculpating us from all
share in the matter ; * and the single exception, which
one correspondent asserted, I could never verify, and do
not believe to have existed. It was stated by Colonel
Bust, in his official report, that some twenty-five build-
ings in all were burned, and I doubt if the actual num-
ber was greater ; but this was probably owing in part to
a change of wind, and did not diminish the discredit of
the transaction. It made our sorrow at departure no less,
though it infinitely enhanced the impressiveness of the
scene.

The excitement of the departure was intense. The
embarkation was so laborious that it seemed as if the
flames must be upon us before we could get on board,
and it was also generally expected that the Rebel skir-
mishers would be down among the houses, wherever prac-
ticable, to annoy us to the utmost, as had been the case
at the previous evacuation. They were, indeed, there,
as we afterwards heard, but did not venture to molest us.
The sight and roar of the flames, and the rolling clouds
of smoke, brought home to the impressible minds of the
black soldiers all their favorite imagery of the Judgment-
Day ; and those who were not too much depressed by
disappointment were excited by the spectacle, and sang
and exhorted without ceasing.

* " The colored regiments had nothing at all to do with it; they be-
haved with propriety throughout." — Boston Journal Correspondence.
("Carleton.")

" The negro troops took no part whatever in the perpetration of this
Vandalism." — New York Tribune Correspondence, (" N. P.")

" We know not whether we are most rejoiced or saddened to observe,
by the general concurrence of accounts, that the negro soldiers had
nothing to do with the barbarous act." — Boston Journal Editorial,
April 10, 1863.

UP THE ST. JOHN'S.

129

"With heavy hearts their officers floated down the
lovely river, which we had ascended with hopes so
buoyant ; and from that day to this, the reasons for
our recall have never been made public. It was com-
monly attributed to proslavery advisers, acting on the
rather impulsive nature of Major-General Hunter, with
a view to cut short the career of the colored troops, and
stop their recruiting. But it may have been simply the
scarcity of troops in the Department, and the renewed
conviction at head-quarters that we were too few to hold
the post alone. The latter theory was strengthened by
the fact that, when General Seymour reoccupied Jack-
sonville, the following year, he took with him twenty
thousand men instead of one thousand, — and the san-
guinary battle of Olustee found him with too few.

6*

i

130

OUT ON PICKET.

CHAPTER V.
OUT ON PICKET.

ONE can hardly imagine a body of men more discon-
solate than a regiment suddenly transferred from
an adventurous life in the enemy's country to the quiet
of a sheltered camp, on safe and familiar ground. The
men under my command were deeply dejected when, on
a most appropriate day, — the First of April, 1863, —
they found themselves unaccountably recalled from Flo-
rida, that region of delights which had seemed theirs by
the right of conquest. My dusky soldiers, who based
their whole walk and conversation strictly on the ancient
Israelites, felt that the prophecies were all set at naught,
and that they were on the wrong side of the Red Sea ;
indeed, I fear they regarded even me as a sort of reversed
Moses, whose Pisgah fronted in the wrong direction.
Had they foreseen how the next occupation of the Prom-
ised Land was destined to result, they might have acqui-
esced with more of their wonted cheerfulness. As it
was, we were very glad to receive, after a few days of
discontented repose on the very ground where we had
once been so happy, an order to go out on picket at Port
Royal Ferry, with the understanding that we might re-
main there for some time.

This picket station was regarded as a sort of military
picnic by the regiments stationed at Beaufort, South
Carolina; it meant blackberries and oysters, wild roses
and magnolias, flowery lanes instead of sandy barrens,
and a sort of guerilla existence in place of the camp rou-

OUT OX PICKET.

131

tine. To the colored soldiers especially, with their love
of country life, and their "extensive personal acquaintance
on the plantations, it seemed quite like a Christmas fes-
tival. Besides, they would be in sight of the enemy, and
who knew but there might, by the blessing of Providence,
be a raid or a skirmish ? If they could not remain on
the St. John's River, it was something to dwell on the
Coosaw. In the end they enjoyed it as much as they
expected, and though we k* went out " several times sub-
sequently, until it became an old story, the enjoyment
never waned. And as even the march from the camp to
the picket lines was something that could not possibly have
been the same for any white regiment in the service, it is
worth while to begin at the beginning and describe it.

A regiment ordered on picket was expected to have
reveille at daybreak, and to be in line for departure by
sunrise. This delighted our men, who always took a
childlike pleasure in being out of bed at any unreason-
able hour ; and by the time I had emerged, the tents
were nearly all struck, and the great wagons were lum-
bering into camp to receive them, with whatever else
was to be transported. The first rays of the sun must
fall upon the line of these wagons, moving away across
the wide parade-ground, followed by the column of men,
who would soon outstrip them. But on the occasion
which I especially describe the sun was shrouded, and,
when once upon the sandy plain, neither camp nor town
nor river could be seen in the dimness ; and when I rode
forward and looked back there was only visible the long,
moving, shadowy column, seeming rather awful in its
snake-like advance. There was a swaying of flags and
multitudinous weapons that might have been camels'
necks for all one could see, and the whole thing might

132

OUT ON PICKET.

have been a caravan upon the desert. Soon we de-
bouched upon the " Shell Road," the wagon-train drew
on one side into the fog, and by the time the sun ap-
peared the music ceased, the men took the " route step,"
and the fun began.

The " route step " is an abandonment of all military
strictness, and nothing is required of the men but to keep
four abreast, and not lag behind. They are not required
to keep step, though, with the rhythmical ear of our
soldiers, they almost always instinctively did so ; talk-
ing and singing are allowed, and of this privilege, at
least, they eagerly availed themselves. On this day
they were at the top of exhilaration. There was one
broad grin from one end of the column to the other;
it might soon have been a caravan of elephants instead
of camels, for the ivory and the blackness ; the chatter
and the laughter almost drowned the tramp of feet and
the clatter of equipments. At cross-roads and plantation
gates the colored people thronged to see us pass ; every
one found a friend and a greeting. " How you do,
aunty?" u Huddy (how d' ye), Budder Benjamin?"
" How you find yourself dis mornin', Tittawisa (Sister
Louisa) ? " Such salutations rang out to everybody,
known or unknown. In return, venerable, kerchiefed
matrons courtesied laboriously to every one, with an un-
failing " Bress de Lord, budder." Grave little boys,
blacker than ink, shook hands with our laughing and
utterly unmanageable drummers, who greeted them with
this sure word of prophecy, " Dem 's de drummers for
de nex' war ! " Pretty mulatto girls ogled and coquetted,
and made eyes, as Thackeray would say, at half the
young fellows in the battalion. Meantime the singing
was brisk along the whole column, and when I sometimes

OUT ON PICKET.

133

reined up to see them pass, the chant of each company,
entering my ear, drove out from the other ear the strain
of the preceding. Such an odd mixture of things, mili-
tary and missionary, as the successive waves of song
drifted by ! First, " John Brown," of course ; then,
" What make old Satan for follow me so ? " then,
" Marching Along " ; then, " Hold your light on Ca-
naan's shore 99 ; then, " When this cruel war is over "
(a new favorite, sung by a few) ; yielding presently to
a grand burst of the favorite marching song among them
all, and one at which every step instinctively quickened,
so light and jubilant its rhythm, —

" All true children gwine in de wilderness,
Gwine in de wilderness, gwine in de wilderness,
True believers gwine in de wilderness,
To take away de sins ob de world," —

ending in a " Hoigh ! " after each verse, — a sort of
Irish yell. For all the songs, but especially for their
own wild hymns, they constantly improvised simple
verses, with the same odd mingling, — the little facts
of to-day's march being interwoven with the depths
of theological gloom, and the same jubilant chorus
annexed to all ; thus, —

" We 're gwine to de Ferry,

De bell done ringing;
Gwine to de landing,

De bell done ringing;
Trust, believer,

0, de bell done ringing;
Satan 's behind me,

De bell done ringing;
'T is a misty morning,

De bell done ringing;

134

OUT ON PICKET,

0 de road am sandy,

De bell done ringing;
Hell been open,

De bell done ringing " ; —

and so on indefinitely.

The little drum-corps kept in advance, a jolly crew,
their drums slung on their backs, and the drum-sticks
perhaps balanced on their heads. With them went the
officers' servant-boys, more uproarious still, always ready
to lend their shrill treble to any song. At the head of
the whole force there walked, by some self-imposed pre-
eminence, a respectable elderly female, one of the com-
pany laundresses, whose vigorous stride we never could
quite overtake, and who had an enormous bundle bal-
anced on her head, while she waved in her hand, like a
sword, a long-handled tin dipper. Such a picturesque
medley of fun, war, and music I believe no white regi-
ment in the service could have shown ; and yet there
was no straggling, and a single tap of the drum would at
any moment bring order out of this seeming chaos. So
we marched our seven miles out upon the smooth and
shaded road, — beneath jasmine clusters, and great pine-
cones dropping, and great bunches of misletoe still in
bloom among the branches. Arrived at the station, the
scene soon became busy and more confused ; wagons were
being unloaded, tents pitched, water brought, wood cut,
fires made, while the " field and staff " could take pos-
session of the abandoned quarters of their predecessors,
and we could look round in the lovely summer morning
to " survey our empire and behold our home."

The only thoroughfare by land between Beaufort and
Charleston is the " Shell Road," a beautiful avenue,
which, about nine miles from Beaufort, strikes a ferry

OUT ON PICKET,

135

across the Coosaw Eiver. War abolished the ferry, and
made the river the permanent barrier between the oppos-
ing picket lines. For ten miles, right and left, these
lines extended, marked by well-worn footpaths, follow-
ing the endless windings of the stream ; and they never
varied until nearly the end of the war. Upon their
maintenance depended our whole foothold on the Sea
Islands ; and upon that again finally depended the whole
campaign of Sherman. But for the services of the col-
ored troops, which finally formed the main garrison of
the Department of the South, the Great March would
never have been performed.

There was thus a region ten or twelve miles square of
which I had exclusive military command. It was level,
but otherwise broken and bewildering to the last degree.
No road traversed it, properly speaking, but the Shell
Eoad. All the rest was a wild medley of cypress swamp,
pine barren, muddy creek, and cultivated plantation, in-
tersected by interminable lanes and bridle-paths, through
which we must ride day and night, and which our horses
soon knew better than ourselves. The regiment was dis-
tributed at different stations, the main force being under
my immediate command, at a plantation close by the
Shell Eoad, two miles from the ferry, and seven miles
from Beaufort. Our first picket duty was just at the
time of the first attack on Charleston, under Dupont and
Hunter ; and it was generally supposed that the Confed-
erates would make an effort to recapture the Sea Islands.
My orders were to watch the enemy closely, keep in-
formed as to his position and movements, attempt no
advance, and, in case any were attempted from the other
side, to delay it as long as possible, sending instant notice
to head-quarters. As to the delay, that could be easily

136

OUT ON PICKET.

guaranteed. There were causeways on the Shell Road
which a single battery could hold against a large force ;
and the plantations were everywhere so intersected by
hedges and dikes that they seemed expressly planned for
defence. Although creeks wound in and out everywhere,
yet these were only navigable at high tide, and at all
other times were impassable marshes. There were but
few posts where the enemy were within rifle range, and
their occasional attacks at those points were soon stopped
by our enforcement of a pithy order from General Hun-
ter, " Give them as good as they send." So that, with
every opportunity for being kept on the alert, there was
small prospect of serious danger ; and all promised an
easy life, with only enough of care to make it pleasant.
The picket station was therefore always a coveted post
among the regiments, combining some undeniable impor-
tance with a kind of relaxation ; and as we were there
three months on our first tour of duty, and returned there
several times afterwards, we got well acquainted with it.
The whole region always reminded me of the descriptions
of La Vendee, and I always expected to meet Henri
Larochejaquelein riding in the woods.

How can I ever describe the charm and picturesque-
ness of that summer life? Our house possessed four
spacious rooms and a piazza ; around it were grouped
sheds and tents ; the camp was a little way off on one
side, the negro-quarters of the plantation on the other ;
and all was immersed in a dense mass of waving and
murmuring locust-blossoms. The spring days were
always lovely, while the evenings were always con-
veniently damp ; so that we never shut the windows
by day, nor omitted our cheerful fire by night. In-
doors, the main head-quarters seemed like the camp of

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137

some party of young engineers in time of peace, only
with a little female society added, and a good many
martial associations thrown in. A large, low, dilapi-
dated room, with an immense fireplace, and with win-
dow-panes chiefly broken, so that the sashes were still
open even when closed, — such was our home. The
walls were scrawled with capital charcoal sketches by R.
of the Fourth New Hampshire, and with a good map of
the island and its wood-paths by C. of the First Massa-
chusetts Cavalry. The room had the picturesqueness
which comes everywhere from the natural grouping of
articles of daily use, — swords, belts, pistols, rifles, field-
glasses, spurs, canteens, gauntlets, — while wreaths of
gray moss above the windows, and a pelican's wing three
feet long over the high mantel-piece, indicated more
deliberate decoration. This, and the whole atmosphere
of the place, spoke of the refining presence of agreeable
women; and it was pleasant when they held their little
court in the evening, and pleasant all day, with the differ-
ent visitors who were always streaming in and out, —
officers and soldiers on various business ; turbaned women
from the plantations, coming with complaints or question-
ings ; fugitives from the main-land to be interrogated ;
visitors riding up on horseback, their hands full of jas-
mine and wild roses ; and the sweet sunny air all per-
fumed with magnolias and the Southern pine. From
the neighboring camp there was a perpetual low hum.
Louder voices and laughter re-echoed, amid the sharp
sounds of the axe, from the pine woods ; and sometimes,
when the relieved pickets were discharging their pieces,
there came the hollow sound of dropping rifle-shots, as in
skirmishing, — perhaps the most unmistakable and fas-
cinating association that war bequeaths to the memory of
the ear.

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Our domestic arrangements were of the oddest descrip-
tion. From the time when we began housekeeping by
taking down the front-door to complete therewith a little
office for the surgeon on the piazza, everything seemed
upside down. I slept on a shelf in the corner of the
parlor, bequeathed me by Major F., my jovial prede-
cessor, and, if I waked at any time, could put my head
through the broken window, arouse my orderly, and ride
off to see if I could catch a picket asleep. We used to
spell the word picquet, because that was understood to be
the correct thing, in that Department at least ; and they
used to say at post head-quarters that as soon as the offi-
cer in command of the outposts grew negligent, and was
guilty of a k, he was ordered in immediately. Then the
arrangements for ablution were peculiar. We fitted up
a bathing-place in a brook, which somehow got appro-
priated at once by the company laundresses ; but I had
my revenge, for I took to bathing in the family wash-
tub. After all, however, the kitchen department had the
advantage, for they used my solitary napkin to wipe the
mess-table. As for food, we found it impossible to get
chickens, save in the immature shape of eggs ; fresh pork
was prohibited by the surgeon, and other fresh meat came
rarely. We could, indeed, hunt for wild turkeys, and
even deer, but such hunting was found only to increase
the appetite, without corresponding supply. Still we
had our luxuries, — large, delicious drum-fish, and alli-
gator steaks, — like a more substantial fried halibut, —
which might have afforded the theme for Charles Lamb's
dissertation on Roast Pig, and by whose aid " for the
first time in our lives we tasted crackling" The post
bakery yielded admirable bread ; and for vegetables and
fruit we had very poor sweet potatoes, and (in their sea-

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139

son) an unlimited supply of the largest blackberries. For
beverage, we had the vapid milk of that region, in which,
if you let it stand, the water sinks instead of the cream's
rising ; and the delicious sugar-cane syrup, which we had
brought from Florida, and which we drank at all hours.
Old Floridians say that no one is justified in drinking
whiskey, while he can get cane-juice ; it is sweet and
spirited, without cloying, foams like ale, and there were
little spots on the ceiling of the dining-room where our
lively beverage had popped out its cork. We kept it
in a whiskey-bottle ; and as whiskey itself was abso-
lutely prohibited among us, it was amusing to see the
surprise of our military visitors when this innocent sub-
stitute was brought in. They usually liked it in the end,
but, like the old Frenchwoman over her glass of water,
wished that it were a sin to give it a relish. As the
foaming beakers of molasses and water were handed
round, the guests would make with them the courteous
little gestures of polite imbibing, and would then quaff
the beverage, some with gusto, others with a slight after-
look of dismay. But it was a delicious and cooling
drink while it lasted ; and at all events was the best and
the worst we had.

We used to have reveille at six, and breakfast about
seven ; then the mounted couriers began to arrive from
half a dozen different directions, with written reports of
what had happened during the night, — a boat seen, a
picket fired upon, a battery erecting. These must be
consolidated and forwarded to head-quarters, with the
daily report of the command, — so many sick, so many
on detached service, and all the rest. This was our
morning newspaper, our Herald and Tribune ; I never
got tired of it. Then the couriers must be furnished

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with countersign and instructions, and sent off again.
Then we scattered to our various rides, all disguised as
duty ; one to inspect pickets, one to visit a sick soldier,
one to build a bridge or clear a road, and still another
to head- quarters for ammunition or commissary stores.
Galloping through green lanes, miles of triumphal arches
of wild roses, — roses pale and large and fragrant, min-
gled with great boughs of the white cornel, fantastic
masses, snowy surprises, — such were our rides, ranging
from eight to fifteen and even twenty miles. Back to a
late dinner with our various experiences, and perhaps
specimens to match, — a thunder-snake, eight feet long ;
a live opossum, with the young clinging to the natural
pouch; an armful of great white, scentless pond-lilies.
After dinner, to the tangled garden for rosebuds or early
magnolias, whose cloying fragrance will always bring
back to me the full zest of those summer days ; then
dress-parade and a little drill as the day grew cool. In
the evening, tea ; and then the piazza or the fireside,
as the case might be, — chess, cards, — perhaps a little
music by aid of the assistant surgeon's melodeon, a few
pages of Jean Paul's " Titan," almost my only book, and
carefully husbanded, — perhaps a mail, with its infinite
felicities. Such was our day.

Night brought its own fascinations, more solitary and
profound. The darker they were, the more clearly it
was our duty to visit the pickets. The paths that had
grown so familiar by day seemed a wholly new labyrinth
by night ; and every added shade of darkness seemed to
shift and complicate them all anew, till at last man's skill
grew utterly baffled, and the clew must be left to the in-
stinct of the horse. Riding beneath the solemn starlight,
or soft, gray mist, or densest blackness, the frogs croak-

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141

ing, the strange u chuckwiiTs-widow 93 droning his omi-
nous note above nay head, the mocking-bird dreaming in
music, the great Southern fireflies rising to the tree-tops,
or hovering close to the ground like glow-worms, till the
horse raised his hoops to avoid them ; through pine woods
and cypress swamps, or past sullen brooks, or white tents,
or the dimly seen huts of sleeping negroes ; down to the
glimmering shore, where black statues leaned against
trees or stood alert in the pathways ; — never, in all the
days of my life, shall I forget the magic of those haunted
nights.

We had nocturnal boat service, too, for it was a part
of our instructions to obtain all possible information about
the enemy's position ; and we accordingly, as usual in
such cases, incurred a great many risks that harmed
nobody, and picked up much information which did
nobody any good. The centre of these nightly recon-
noissances, for a long time, was the wreck of the George
Washington, the story of whose disaster is perhaps worth
telling.

Till about the time when we went on picket, it had
been the occasional habit of the smaller gunboats to make
the circuit of Port Royal Island, — a practice which was
deemed very essential to the safety of our position, but
which the Rebels effectually stopped, a few days after our
arrival, by destroying the army gunboat George Wash-
ington with a single shot from a light battery. I was
roused soon after daybreak by the firing, and a courier
soon came dashing in with the particulars. Forwarding
these hastily to Beaufort (for we had then no telegraph),
I was soon at the scene of action, five miles away. Ap-
proaching. I met on the picket paths man after man who
had escaped from the wreck across a half-mile of almost

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impassable marsh. Never did I see such objects, — some
stripped to their shirts, some fully clothed, but all having
every garment literally pasted to their bodies with mud.
Across the river, the Rebels were retiring, having done
their work, but were still shelling, from greater and
greater distances, the wood through which I rode. Ar-
rived at the spot nearest the wreck (a point opposite to
what we called the Brickyard Station), I saw the burn-
ing vessel aground beyond a long stretch of marsh, out of
which the forlorn creatures were still floundering. Here
and there in the mud and reeds we could see the labor-
ing heads, slowly advancing, and could hear excruciating
cries from wounded men in the more distant depths. It
was the strangest mixture of war and Dante and Robin-
son Crusoe. Our energetic chaplain coming up, I sent
him with four men, under a flag of truce, to the place
whence the worst cries proceeded, while I went to an-
other part of the marsh. During that morning we got
them all out, our last achievement being the rescue of
the pilot, an immense negro with a wooden leg, — an
article so particularly unavailable for mud travelling, that
it would have almost seemed better, as one of the men
suggested, to cut the traces, and leave it behind.

A naval gunboat, too, which had originally accompa-
nied this vessel, and should never have left it, now came
back and took off the survivors, though there had been
several deaths from scalding and shell. It proved that
the wreck was not aground after all, but at anchor, hav-
ing foolishly lingered till after daybreak, and having thus
given time for the enemy to bring down their guns.
The first shot had struck the boiler, and set the vessel on
fire ; after which the officer in command had raised a
white flag, and then escaped with his men to our shore ;

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143

and it was for thi3 flight in the wrong direction that they
were shelled in the marshes by the Rebels. The case
furnished in this respect some parallel to that of the
Kearsage and Alabama, and it was afterwards cited, I
believe, officially or unofficially, to show that the Rebels
had claimed the right to punish, in this case, the course
of action which they approved in Semmes. I know that
they always asserted thenceforward that the detachment
on board the George Washington had become rightful
prisoners of war, and were justly fired upon when they
tried to escape.

This was at the time of the first attack on Charleston,
and the noise of this cannonading spread rapidly thither,
and brought four regiments to reinforce Beaufort in a
hurry, under the impression that the town was already
taken, and that they must save what remnants they could.
General Saxton, too, had made such capital plans for de-
fending the post that he could not bear not to have it
attacked ; so, while the Rebels brought down a force to
keep us from taking the guns off the wreck, I was also
supplied with a section or two of regular artillery, and
some additional infantry, with which to keep them from
it ; and we tried to ki make believe very hard," and rival
the Charleston expedition on our own island. Indeed,
our affair came to about as much, — nearly nothing, —
and lasted decidedly longer ; for both sides nibbled away
at the guns, by night, for weeks afterward, though I be-
lieve the mud finally got them, — at least, we did not.
We tried in vain to get the use of a steamboat or floating
derrick of any kind ; for it needed more mechanical in-
genuity than we possessed to transfer anything so heavy
to our small boats by night, while by day we did not go
near the wreck in anything larger than a " dug-out"

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One of these nocturnal visits, to the wreck I recall with
peculiar gusto, because it brought back that contest with
catarrh and coughing among my own warriors which had
so ludicrously beset me in Florida. It was always fas-
cinating to be on those forbidden waters by night, steal-
ing out with muffled oars through the creeks and reeds,
our eyes always strained for other voyagers, our ears
listening breathlessly to all the marsh sounds, — black-
fish splashing, and little wakened reed-birds that fled
wailing away over the dim river, equally safe on either
side. But it always appeared to the watchful senses that
we were making noise enough to be heard at Fort Sum-
ter ; and somehow the victims of catarrh seemed always
the most eager for any enterprise requiring peculiar cau-
tion. In this case I thought I had sifted them before-
hand ; but as soon as we were afloat, one poor boy near
me began to wheeze, and I turned upon him in exasper-
ation. He saw his danger, and meekly said, " I won't
cough, Cunnel ! " and he kept his word. For two mor-
tal hours he sat grasping his gun, wTith never a chirrup,
But two unfortunates in the bow of the boat developed
symptoms which I could not suppress ; so, putting in at
a picket station, with some risk I dumped them in mud
knee-deep, and embarked a substitute, who after the first
five minutes absolutely coughed louder than both the
others united. Handkerchiefs, blankets, over-coats, suf-
focation in its direst forms, were all tried in vain, but
apparently the Rebel pickets slept through it all, and we
explored the wreck in safety. I think they were asleep,
for certainly across the level marshes there came a nasal
sound, as of the " Conthieveracy " in its slumbers. It
may have been a bull-frog, but it sounded like a human
snore.

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145

Picket life was of course the place to feel the charm
of natural beauty on the Sea Islands. We had a world
of profuse and tangled vegetation around us, such as
would have been a dream of delight to me, but for the
constant sense of responsibility and care which came be-
tween. Amid this preoccupation. Nature seemed but a
mirage, and not the close and intimate associate I had
before known. I pressed no flowers, collected no insects
or birds' eggs, made no notes on natural objects, revers-
ing in these respects all previous habits. Yet now, in
the retrospect, there seems to have been infused into me
through every pore the voluptuous charm of the season
and the place ; and the slightest corresponding sound or
odor now calls back the memory of those delicious days.
Being afterwards on picket at almost every season, I
tasted the sensations of all ; and though I hardly then
thought of such a result, the associations of beauty will
remain forever.

In February, for instance, — though this was during a
later period of picket service, — the woods were usually
draped with that u net of shining haze 99 which marks our
Northern May ; and the house was embowered in wild-
plum-blossoms, small, white, profuse, and tenanted by
murmuring bees. There were peach-blossoms, too, and
the yellow jasmine was opening its multitudinous buds,
climbing over tall trees, and waving from bou^h to bou^h.
There were fresh young ferns and white bloodroot in the
edges of woods, matched by snowdrops in the garden,
beneath budded myrtle and Petisporum. In this wilder-
ness the birds were busy ; the two main songsters being
the mocking-bird and the cardinal-grosbeak, which mo-
nopolized all the parts of our more varied Northern
orchestra save the tender and liquid notes, which in
7 j

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South Carolina seemed unattempted except by some
stray blue-bird. Jays were as loud and busy as at the
North in autumn ; there were sparrows and wrens ; and
sometimes I noticed the shy and whimsical chewink.

From this early spring-time onward, there seemed no
great difference in atmospheric sensations, and only a
succession of bloom. After two months one's notions of
the season grew bewildered, just as very early rising be-
wilders the day. In the army one is perhaps roused
after a bivouac, marches before daybreak, halts, fights,
somebody is killed, a long day's life has been lived, and
after all it is not seven o'clock, and breakfast is not ready.
So when we had lived in summer so long as hardly to
remember winter, it suddenly occurred to us that it was
not yet June. One escapes at the South that mixture of
hunger and avarice which is felt in the Northern sum-
mer, counting each hour's joy with the sad consciousness
that an hour is gone. The compensating loss is in miss-
ing those soft, sweet, liquid sensations of the Northern
spring, that burst of life and joy, those days of heaven
that even April brings ; and this absence of childhood in
the year creates a feeling of hardness in the season, like
that I have suggested in the melody of the Southern
birds. It seemed to me also that the woods had not
those pure, clean, innocent odors which so abound in the
New England forest in early spring; but there was
something luscious, voluptuous, almost oppressively fra-
grant about the magnolias, as if they belonged not to
Hebe, but to Magdalen.

Such immense and lustrous butterflies I had never
seen but in dreams ; and not even dreams had pre-
pared me for sand-flies. Almost too small to be seen,
they inflicted a bite which appeared larger than them-

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147

selves, — a positive wound, more torturing than that of a
mosquito, and leaving more annoyance behind. These
tormentors elevated dress-parade into the dignity of a
military engagement. I had to stand motionless, with
my head a mere nebula of winged atoms, while tears
rolled profusely down my face, from mere muscular irrita-
tion. Had I stirred a finger, the whole battalion would
have been slapping its cheeks. Such enemies were,
however, a valuable aid to discipline, on the whole, as
they abounded in the guard-house, and made that institu-
tion an object of unusual abhorrence among the men.

The presence of ladies and the homelike air of every-
thing, made the picket station a very popular resort
while we were there. It was the one agreeable ride
from Beaufort, and we often had a dozen people unex-
pectedly to dinner. On such occasions there was some-
times mounting in hot haste, and an eager search among
the outlying plantations for additional chickens and eggs,
or through the company kitchens for some of those vil-
lanous tin cans which everywhere marked the progress of
our army. In those cans, so far as my observation went,
all fruits relapsed into a common acidulation, and all
meats into a similarity of tastelessness ; while the " con-
densed milk " was best described by the men, who often
unconsciously stumbled on a better joke than they knew,
and always spoke of it as condemned milk.

We had our own excursions too, — to the Barnwell
plantations, with their beautiful avenues and great live-
oak-, the perfection of Southern beauty, — to Hall's Isl-
and, debatable ground, close under the enemy's fire, where
halt-wild cattle were to be shot, under military precautions,
like Scottish moss-trooping, — or to the ferry, where it
was fascinating to the female mind to scan the Rebel

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pickets through a field-glass. Our horses liked the by-
ways far better than the level hardness of the Shell
Road, especially those we had brought from Florida,
which enjoyed the wilderness as if they had belonged to
Marion's men. They delighted to feel the long sedge
brush their flanks, or to gallop down the narrow wood-
paths, leaping the fallen trees, and scaring the bright
little lizards which shot across our track like live rays
broken from the sunbeams. We had an abundance of
horses, mostly captured and left in our hands by some
convenient delay of the post quartermaster. We had
also two side-saddles, which, not being munitions of war,
could not properly (as we explained) be transferred like
other captured articles to the general stock ; otherwise
the P. Q. M. (a married man) would have showed no
unnecessary delay in their case. For miscellaneous ac-
commodation was there not an ambulance, — that most
inestimable of army conveniences, equally ready to carry
the merry to a feast or the wounded from a fray. " Am-
bulance " was one of those words, rather numerous,
which Ethiopian lips were not framed by Nature to ar-
ticulate. Only the highest stages of colored culture
could compass it ; on the tongue of the many it was
transformed mystically as " amulet," or ambitiously as
" epaulet," or in culinary fashion as " omelet." But it
was our experience that an ambulance under any name
jolted equally hard.

Besides these divertisements, we had more laborious
vocations, — a good deal of fatigue, and genuine though
small alarms. The men went on duty every third day
at furthest, and the officers nearly as often, — most of
the tours of duty lasting twenty-four hours, though the
stream was considered to watch itself tolerably well by

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149

daylight. This kind of responsibility suited the men ;
and we had already found, as the whole army afterwards
acknowledged, that the constitutional watchfulness and
distrustfulness of the colored race made them admirable
sentinels. Soon after we went on picket, the command-
ing general sent an aid, with a cavalry escort, to visit all
the stations, without my knowledge. They spent the
whole night, and the officer reported that he could not
get within thirty yards of any post without a challenge.
This was a pleasant assurance for me ; since our position
seemed so secure, compared with Jacksonville, that I
had feared some relaxation of vigilance, while yet the
safety of all depended on our thorough discharge of
duty.

Jacksonville had also seasoned the men so well that
they were no longer nervous, and did not waste much
powder on false alarms. The Rebels made no formal
attacks, and rarely attempted to capture pickets. Some-
times they came stealing through the creeks in " dug-
outs," as we did on their side of the water, and occasion-
ally an officer of ours was fired upon while making his
rounds by night. Often some boat or scow would go
adrift, and sometimes a mere dark mass of river- weed
would be floated by the tide past the successive station-,
eliciting a challenge and perhaps a shot from each. I
remember the vivid way in which one of the men stated
to his officer the manner in which a faithful picket should
do his duty, after challenging, in case a boat came in
sight. " Fus' ting I shoot, and den I shoot, and den I
shoot again. Den I creep-creep up near de boat, and
see who dey in 'em ; and s'pose anybody pop up he head,
den I shoot again. S'pose I fire my forty rounds. I
tink he hear at de camp and send more mans/' — which

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seemed a reasonable presumption. This soldier's name
was Paul Jones, a daring fellow, quite worthy of his
namesake.

In time, however, they learned quieter methods, and
would wade far out in the water, there standing motion-
less at last, hoping to surround and capture these floating
boats, though, to their great disappointment, the prize
usually proved empty. On one occasion they tried a
still profounder strategy ; for an officer visiting the pick-
ets after midnight, and hearing in the stillness a porten-
tous snore from the end of the causeway (our most im-
portant station), straightway hurried to the point of
danger, with wrath in his soul. But the sergeant of the
squad came out to meet him, imploring silence, and ex-
plaining that they had seen or suspected a boat hovering
near, and were feigning sleep in order to lure and cap-
ture those who would entrap them.

The one military performance at the picket station of
which my men were utterly intolerant was an occasional
flag of truce, for which this was the appointed locality.
These farces, for which it was our duty to furnish the
stock actors, always struck them as being utterly des-
picable, and unworthy the serious business of war.
They felt, I suppose, what Mr. Pickwick felt, when he
heard his counsel remark to the counsel for the plaintiff,
that it was a very fine morning. It goaded their souls
to see the young officers from the two opposing armies
salute each other courteously, and interchange cigars.
They despised the object of such negotiations, which was
usually to send over to the enemy some family of Rebel
women who had made themselves quite intolerable on
our side, but were not above collecting a subscription
among the Union officers, before departure, to replenish

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151

their wardrobes. The men never showed disrespect to
these women by word or deed, but they hated them from
the bottom of their souls. Besides, there was a griev-
ance behind all this. The Rebel order remained unre-
voked which consigned the new colored troops and their
officers to a felon's death, if captured ; and we all felt
that we fought with ropes round our necks. " Dere *s
no flags ob truce for us," the men would contemptuously
say. u When de Secesh fight de Fus' Souf" (First
South Carolina), " he fight in earnest." Indeed, I my-
self took it as rather a compliment when the commander
on the other side — though an old acquaintance of mine
in Massachusetts and in Kansas — at first refused to
negotiate through me or my officers, — a refusal which
was kept up, greatly to the enemy's inconvenience, until
our men finally captured some of the opposing pickets,
and their friends had to waive all scruples in order to
send them supplies. After this there was no trouble,
and I think that the first Rebel officer in South Carolina
who officially met any officer of colored troops under a
flag of truce was Captain John C. Calhoun. In Florida
we had been so recognized long before ; but that was
when they wished to frighten us out of Jacksonville.

Such was our life on picket at Port Royal, — a thing
whose memory is now fast melting into such stuff as
dreams are made of. We stayed there more than two
months at that time ; the first attack on Charleston ex-
ploded with one puff, and had its end ; General Hunter
was ordered North, and the busy Gilmore reigned in his
stead ; and in June, when the blackberries were all eaten,
we were summoned, nothing loath, to other scenes and
encampments new.

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A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

CHAPTER VI.
A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

YES, that was a pleasant life on picket, in the deli-
cious early summer of the South, and among the
endless flowery forests of that blossoming isle. In the
retrospect I seem to see myself adrift upon a horse's back
amid a sea of roses. The various outposts were within
a six-mile radius, and it was one long, delightful gallop,
day and night. I have a faint impression that the moon
shone steadily every night for two months ; and yet I re-
member certain periods of such dense darkness that in
riding through the wood-paths it was really unsafe to go
beyond a walk, for fear of branches above and roots be-
low ; and one of my officers was once shot at by a Rebel
scout who stood unperceived at his horse's bridle.

To those doing outpost-duty on an island, however
large, the main-land has all the fascination of forbidden
fruit, and on a scale bounded only by the horizon.
Emerson says that every house looks ideal until we
enter it, — and it is certainly so, if it be just the other
side of the hostile lines. Every grove in that blue dis-
tance appears enchanted ground, and yonder loitering
gray-back leading his horse to water in the farthest dis-
tance, makes one thrill with a desire to hail him, to shoot
at him, to capture him, to do anything to bridge this in-
exorable dumb space that lies between. A boyish feel-
ing, no doubt, and one that time diminishes, without ef-
facing ; yet it is a feeling which lies at the bottom of
many rash actions in war, and of some brilliant ones.

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. 153

For one, I could never quite outgrow it, though restricted
by duty from doing many foolish things in consequence,
and also restrained by reverence for certain confidential
advisers whom I had always at hand, and who considered
it their mission to keep me always on short rations of
personal adventure. Indeed, most of that sort of enter-
tainment in the army devolves upon scouts detailed for
the purpose, volunteer aides-de-camp and newspaper-
reporters, — other officers being expected to be about
business more prosaic.

All the excitements of war are quadrupled by dark-
ness ; and as I rode along our outer lines at night, and
watched the glimmering flames which at regular intervals
starred the opposite river-shore, the longing was irre-
sistible to cross the barrier of dusk, and see whether it
were men or ghosts who hovered round those dying em-
bers. I had yielded to these impulses in boat-adventures
by night, — for it was a part of my instructions to ob-
tain all possible information about the Rebel outposts, —
and fascinating indeed it was to glide along, noiselessly
paddling, with a dusky guide, through the endless in-
tricacies of those Southern marshes, scaring the reed-
birds, which wailed and fled away into the darkness, and
penetrating several miles into the interior, between hostile
fires, where discovery might be death. Yet there were
drawbacks as to these enterprises, since it is not easy for
a boat to cross still water, even on the darkest night,
without being seen by watchful eyes ; and, moreover, the
extremes of high and low tide transform so completely
the whole condition of those rivers that it needs very
nice calculation to do one's work at precisely the right
time. To vary the experiment, I had often thought of
trying a personal reconnoissance by swimming, at a
7*

154 A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

certain point, whenever circumstances should make it an
object.

The opportunity at last arrived, and I shall never for-
get the glee with which, after several postponements, I
finally rode forth, a little before midnight, on a night
which seemed made for the purpose. I had, of course,
kept my own secret, and was entirely alone. The great
Southern fireflies were out, not haunting the low ground
merely, like ours, but rising to the loftiest tree-tops with
weird illumination, and anon hovering so low that my
horse often stepped the higher to avoid them. The
dewy Cherokee roses brushed my face, the solemn
" Chuckwill's-widow " croaked her incantation, and the
rabbits raced phantom-like across the shadowy road.
Slowly in the darkness I followed the well-known path
to the spot where our most advanced outposts were
stationed, holding a causeway which thrust itself far out
across the separating river, — thus fronting a similar
causeway on the other side, while a channel of perhaps
three hundred yards, once traversed by a ferry-boat,
rolled between. At low tide this channel was the whole
river, with broad, oozy marshes on each side ; at high
tide the marshes were submerged, and the stream was a
mile wide. This was the point which I had selected.
To ascertain the numbers and position of the picket on
the opposite causeway was my first object, as it was a
matter on which no two of our officers agreed.

To this point, therefore, I rode, and dismounting, after
being duly challenged by the sentinel at the causeway-
head, walked down the long and lonely path. The tide
was well up, though still on the flood, as I desired ; and
each visible tuft of marsh-grass might, but for its motion-
lessness, have been a prowling boat. Dark as the night

A NIGHT IX THE WATER. 15 5

had appeared, the water was pale, smooth, and phospho-
rescent, and I remember that the phrase " wan water," so
familiar in the Scottish ballads, struck me just then as
peculiarly appropriate, though its real meaning is quite
different. A gentle breeze, from which I had hoped for
a ripple, had utterly died away, and it was a warm,
breathless Southern night. There was no sound but the
faint swash of the coming tide, the noises of the reed-
birds in the marshes, and the occasional leap of a fish ;
and it seemed to my overstrained ear as if every foot-
step of my own must be heard for miles. However, I
could have no more postponements, and the thing must
be tried now or never.

Reaching the farther end of the causeway, I found my
men couched, like black statues, behind the slight earth-
work there constructed. I expected that my proposed
immersion would rather bewilder them, but knew that
they would say nothing, as usual. As for the lieutenant
on that post, he was a steady, matter-of-fact, perfectly dis-
ciplined Englishman, who wore a Crimean medal, ami
never asked a superfluous question in his life. If I had
casually remarked to him, " Mr. Hooper, the General
has ordered me on a brief personal reconnoissance to the
Planet Jupiter, and I wish you to take care of my watch,
lest it should be damaged by the Precession of the Equi-
noxes,'' he would have responded with a brief " All right,
Sir," and a quick military gesture, and have put the thing
in his pocket. As it was, I simply gave him the watch,
and remarked that I was going to take a swim.

I do not remember ever to have experienced a greater
sense of exhilaration than when I slipped noiselessly into
the placid water, and struck out into the smooth, eddying
current for the opposite shore. The night was so still

156

A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

and lovely, my black statues looked so dream -like at their
posts behind the low earthwork, the opposite arm of the
causeway stretched so invitingly from the Rebel main,
the horizon glimmered so low around me, — for it always
appears lower to a swimmer than even to an oarsman, —
that I seemed floating in some concave globe, some magic
crystal, of which I was the enchanted centre. With each
little ripple of my steady progress all things hovered and
changed ; the stars danced and nodded above ; where
the stars ended the great Southern fireflies began ; and
closer than the fireflies, there clung round me a halo of
phosphorescent sparkles from the soft salt water.

Had I told any one of my purpose, I should have had
warnings and remonstrances enough. The few negroes
who did not believe in alligators believed in sharks ; the
sceptics as to sharks were orthodox in respect to alliga-
tors ; while those who rejected both had private prejudices
as to snapping-turtles. The surgeon would have threat-
ened intermittent fever, the first assistant rheumatism,
and the second assistant congestive chills ; non-swimmers
would have predicted exhaustion, and swimmers cramp ;
and all this before coming within bullet-range of any hos-
pitalities on the other shore. But I knew the folly of
most alarms about reptiles and fishes ; man's imagination
peoples the water with many things which do not belong
there, or prefer to keep out of his way, if they do ; fevers
and congestions were the surgeon's business, and I always
kept people to their own department ; cramp and exhaus-
tion were dangers I could measure, as I had often done ;
bullets were a more substantial danger, and I must take
the chance, — if a loon could dive at the flash, why not
I ? If I were once ashore, I should have to cope with the
Rebels on their own ground, which they knew better than

A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

157

I ; but the water was my ground, where I, too, had been
at home from boyhood.

I swam as swiftly and softly as I could, although it
seemed as if water never had been so still before. It
appeared impossible that anything uncanny should hide
beneath that lovely mirror ; and yet when some floating
wisp of reeds suddenly coiled itself around my neck, or
some unknown thing, drifting deeper, coldly touched my
foot, it caused that undefinable shudder which every swim-
mer knows, and which especially comes over one by
night. Sometimes a slight sip of brackish water would
enter my lips, — for I naturally tried to swim as low as
possible, — and then would follow a slight gasping and
contest against choking, that seemed to me a perfect con-
vulsion ; for I suppose the tendency to choke and sneeze
is always enhanced bv the circumstance that one's life
may depend on keeping still, just as yawning becomes
irresistible where to yawn would be social ruin, and just
as one is sure to sleep in church, if one sits in a conspic-
uous pew. At other times, some unguarded motion would
create a splashing which seemed, in the tension of my
senses, to be loud enough to be heard at Richmond, al-
though it really mattered not, since there are fishes in
those rivers which make as much noise on special occa-
sions as if they were misguided young whales.

As I drew near the opposite shore, the dark causeway
projected more and more distinctly, to my fancy at least,
and I swam more softly still, utterly uncertain as to how
far, in the stillness of air and water, my phosphorescent
course could be traced by eye or ear. A slight ripple
would have saved me from observation, I was more than
ever sure, and I would have whistled for a fair wind as
eagerly as any sailor, but that my breath was worth to

158

A NIGHT W THE WATER.

me more than anything it was likely to bring. The
water became smoother and smoother, and nothing broke
the dim surface except a few clumps of rushes and my
unfortunate head. The outside of this member gradually
assumed to its inside a gigantic magnitude ; it had always
annoyed me at the hatter's from a merely animal big-
ness, with no commensurate contents to show for it, and
now I detested it more than ever. A physical feeling of
turgescence and congestion in that region, such as swim-
mers often feel, probably increased the impression. I
thought with envy of the Aztec children, of the headless
horseman of Sleepy Hollow, of Saint Somebody with his
head tucked under his arm. Plotinus was less ashamed
of his whole body than I of this inconsiderate and stupid
appendage. To be sure, I might swim for a certain dis-
tance under water. But that accomplishment I had re-
served for a retreat, for I knew that the longer I stayed
down the more surely I should have to snort like a wal-
rus when I came up again, and to approach an enemy
with such a demonstration was not to be thought of.

Suddenly a dog barked. We had certain information
that a pack of hounds was kept at a Rebel station a few
miles off, on purpose to hunt runaways, and I had heard
from the negroes almost fabulous accounts of the instinct
of these animals. I knew that, although water baffled
their scent, they yet could recognize in some manner the
approach of any person across water as readily as by
land ; and of the vigilance of all dogs by night every
traveller among Southern plantations has ample demon-
stration. I was now so near that I could dimly see the
figures of men moving to and fro upon the end of the
causeway, and could hear the dull knock, when one
struck his foot against a piece of timber.

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. 159

As my first object was to ascertain whether there were
sentinels at that time at that precise point, I saw that I
was approaching the end of my experiment. Could I
have once reached the causeway unnoticed, I could have
lurked in the water beneath its projecting timbers, and
perhaps made my way along the main shore, as I had
known fugitive slaves to do, while coming from that side.
Or had there been any ripple on the water, to confuse the
aroused and watchful eyes, I could have made a circuit
and approached the causeway at another point, though I
had already satisfied myself that there was only a narrow
channel on each side of it, even at high tide, and not, as
on our side, a broad expanse of water. Indeed, this
knowledge alone was worth all the trouble I had taken,
and to attempt much more than this, in the face of a curi-
osity already roused, would have been a waste of future
opportunities. I could try again, with the benefit of this
new knowledge, on a point where the statements of the
negroes had always been contradictory.

Resolving, however, to continue the observation a very
little longer, since the water felt much warmer than I had
expected, and there was no sense of chill or fatigue, I
grasped at some wisps of straw or rushes that floated
near, gathering them round my face a little, and then
drifting nearer the wharf in what seemed a sort of eddy
was able, without creating further alarm, to make some
additional observations on points which it is not best now
to particularize. Then, turning my back upon the mys-
terious shore which had thus far lured me, I sank softly
below the surface, and swam as far as I could under
water.

During this unseen retreat, I heard, of course, all man-
ner of gurglings and hollow reverberations, and could

160

A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

fancy as many rifle-shots as I pleased. But on rising to
the surface all seemed quiet, and even I did not create as
much noise as I should have expected. I was now at a
safe distance, since the enemy were always chary of
showing their boats, and always tried to convince us they
had none. What with absorbed attention first, and this
submersion afterwards, I had lost all my bearings but the
stars, having been long out of sight of my original point
of departure. However, the difficulties of the return
were nothing ; making a slight allowance for the flood-
tide, which could not yet have turned, I should soon re-
gain the place I had left. So I struck out freshly against
the smooth water, feeling just a little stiffened by the ex-
ertion, and with an occasional chill running up the back
of the neck, but with no nips from sharks, no nudges
from alligators, and not a symptom of fever-and-ague.

Time I could not, of course, measure, — one never can
in a novel position ; but, after a reasonable amount of
swimming, I began to look, with a natural interest, for
the pier which I had quitted. I noticed, with some solici-
tude, that the woods along the friendly shore made one
continuous shadow, and that the line of low bushes on the
long causeway could scarcely be relieved against them,
yet 1 knew where they ought to be, and the more doubt-
ful I felt about it, the more I put down my doubts, as if
they were unreasonable children. One can scarcely con-
ceive of the alteration made in familiar objects by bring-
ing the eye as low as the horizon, especially by night ; to
distinguish foreshortening is impossible, and every low
near object is equivalent to one higher and more remote.
Still I had the stars ; and soon my eye, more practised,
was enabled to select one precise line of bushes as that
which marked the causeway, and for which I must direct
my course.

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. 161

As I swam steadily, but with some sense of fatigue,
towards this phantom-line, T found it difficult to keep my
faith steady and my progress true ; everything appeared
to shift and waver, in the uncertain light. The distant
trees seemed not trees, but bushes, and the bushes seemed
not exactly bushes, but might, after all, be distant trees.
Could I be so confident that, out of all that low stretch
of shore, I could select the one precise point where the
friendly causeway stretched its long arm to receive me
from the water ? How easily (some tempter whispered
at my ear) might one swerve a little, on either side, and
be compelled to flounder over half a mile of oozy marsh
on an ebbing tide, before reaching our own shore and
that hospitable volley of bullets with which it would
probably greet me ! Had I not already (thus the
tempter continued) been swimming rather unaccountably
far, supposing me on a straight track for that inviting
spot where my sentinels and my drapery were awaiting
my return ?

Suddenly I felt a sensation as of fine ribbons drawn
softly across my person, and I found myself among some
rushes. But what business had rushes there, or I among
them ? I knew that there "was not a solitary spot of
shoal in the deep channel where I supposed myself swim-
ming, and it was plain in an instant that I had somehow
missed my course, and must be getting among the
marshes. I felt confident, to be sure, that I could not
have widely erred, but was guiding my course for the
proper side of the river. But whether I had drifted
above or below the causeway I had not the slightest clew
to tell.

I pushed steadily forward, with some increasing sense
of lassitude, passing one marshy islet after another, all

K

162

A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

seeming strangely out of place, and sometimes just
reaching with my foot a soft tremulous shoal which gave
scarce the shadow of a support, though even that shadow
rested my feet. At one of these moments of stillness it
suddenly occurred to my perception (what nothing but
this slight contact could have assured me, in the dark-
ness) that I was in a powerful current, and that this cur-
rent set the wrong way. Instantly a flood of new intelli-
gence came. Either I had unconsciously turned and
was rapidly nearing the Rebel shore, — a suspicion
which a glance at the stars corrected, — or else it was
the tide itself which had turned, and which was sweep-
ing me down the river with all its force, and was also
sucking away at every moment the narrowing water
from that treacherous expanse of mud out of whose hor-
rible miry embrace I had lately helped to rescue a ship-
wrecked crew.

Either alternative was rather formidable. I can dis-
tinctly remember that for about one half-minute the
whole vast universe appeared to swim in the same watery
uncertainty in which I floated. I began to doubt every-
thing, to distrust the stars, the line of low bushes for
which I was wearily striving, the very land on which
they grew, if such visionary things could be rooted any-
where. Doubts trembled in my mind like the weltering
water, and that awful sensation of having one's feet un-
supported, which benumbs the spent swimmer's heart,
seemed to clutch at mine, though not yet to enter it. I
was more absorbed in that singular sensation of night-
mare, such as one may feel equally when lost by land or
by water, as if one's own position were all right, but the
place looked for had somehow been preternatu rally abol-
ished out of the universe. At best, might not a man in

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. 163

the water lose all bis power of direction, and so move in
an endless circle until he sank exhausted ? It required
a deliberate and conscious effort to keep my brain quite
cool. I have not the reputation of being of an excita-
ble temperament, but the contrary ; yet I could at that
moment see my way to a condition in which one might
become insane in an instant. It was as if a fissure
opened somewhere, and I saw my way into a mad-house ;
then it closed, and everything went on as before. Once
in my life I had obtained a slight glimpse of the same
sensation, and then, too, strangely enough, while swim-
ming,— in the mightiest ocean-surge into which I had
ever dared plunge my mortal body. Keats hints at the
same sudden emotion, in a wild poem written among the
Scottish mountains. It was not the distinctive sensation
which drowning men are said to have, that spasmodic
passing in review of one's whole personal history. I had
no well-defined anxiety, felt no fear, was moved to no
prayer, did not give a thought to home or friends ; only
it swept over me, as with a sudden tempest, that, if I
meant to get back to my own camp, I must keep my wits
about me. I must not dwell on any other alternative,
any more than a boy who climbs a precipice must look
down. Imagination had no business here. That way
madness lay. There was a shore somewhere before me,
and I must get to it, by the ordinary means, before the
ebb laid bare the flats, or swept me below the lower
bends of the stream. That was all.

Suddenly a light gleamed for an instant before me. a^
if from a house in a grove of great trees upon a bank ;
and I knew that it came from the window of a ruined
plantation-building, where our most advanced outposts
had their head-quarters. The flash revealed to me

164

A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

every point of the situation. I saw at once where I
was, and how I got there : that the tide had turned
while I was swimming, and with a much briefer interval
of slack-water than I had been led to suppose, — that I
had been swept a good way down stream, and was far
beyond all possibility of regaining the point I had left.
Could I, however, retain my strength to swim one or two
hundred yards farther, of which I had no doubt, — and
if the water did not ebb too rapidly, of which I had more
fear, — then I was quite safe. Every stroke took me
more and more out of the power of the current, and
there might even be an eddy to aid me. I could not af-
ford to be carried down much farther, for there the chan-
nel made a sweep toward the wrong side of the river ;
but there was now no reason why I should not reach
land. I could dismiss all fear, indeed, except that of
being fired upon by our own sentinels, many of whom
were then new recruits, and with the usual disposition to
shoot first and investigate afterwards.

I found myself swimming in shallow and shallower
water, and the flats seemed almost bare when I neared
the shore, where the great gnarled branches of the live-
oaks hung far over the muddy bank. Floating on my
back for noiselessness, I paddled rapidly in with my
hands, expecting momentarily to hear the challenge of
the picket, and the ominous click so likely to follow. I
knew that some one should be pacing to and fro, along
that beat, but could not tell at what point he might be at
that precise moment. Besides, there was a faint possi-
bility that some chatty corporal might have carried the
news of my bath thus far along the line, and they might
be partially prepared for this unexpected visitor. Sud-
denly, like another flash, came the quick, quaint chal-
lenge, —

A NIGHT IN THE WATER. 165

"Halt ! Who 's go dar?"

« F-f-friend with the c-c-countersign," retorted I, with
chilly, but conciliatory energy, rising at full length out of
the shallow water, to show myself a man and a brother.

" Ac-vance, friend, and give de countersign," responded
the literal soldier, who at such a time would have accosted
a spirit of light or goblin damned with no other for-
mula.

I advanced and gave it, he recognizing my voice at
once. And then and there, as I stood, a dripping ghost,
beneath the trees before him, the unconscionable fellow,
wishing to exhaust upon me the utmost resources of mil-
itary hospitality, deliberately presented arms !

Now a soldier on picket, or at night, usually presents
arms to nobody ; but a sentinel on camp-guard by day is
expected to perform that ceremony to anything in human
shape that has two rows of buttons. Here was a human
shape, but so utterly buttonless that it exhibited not even
a rag to which a button could by any earthly possibility
be appended, buttonless even potentially ; and my blame-
less Ethiopian presented arms to even this. Where,
then, are the theories of Carlyle, the axioms of u Sartor
Resartus," the inability of humanity to conceive " a naked
Duke of Windlestraw addressing a naked House of
Lords " ? Cautioning my adherent, however, as to the
proprieties suitable for such occasions thenceforward, I
left him watching the river with renewed vigilance, and
awaiting the next merman who should report himself.

Finding my way to the building, I hunted up a ser-
geant and a blanket, got a fire kindled in the dismantled
chimney, and sat before it in my single garment, like a
moist but undismayed Choctaw, until horse and clothing
could be brought round from the causeway. It seemed

166 A NIGHT IN THE WATER.

strange that the morning had not yet dawned, after the
uncounted periods that must have elapsed ; but when the
wardrobe arrived I looked at my watch and found that
my night in the water had lasted precisely one hour.

Galloping home, I turned in with alacrity, and without
a drop of whiskey, and waked a few hours after in excel-
lent condition. The rapid changes of which that Depart-
ment has seen so many — and, perhaps, to so little pur-
pose — soon transferred us to a different scene. I have
been on other scouts since then, and by various processes,
but never with a zest so novel as was afforded by that
night's experience. The thing soon got wind in the regi-
ment, and led to only one ill consequence, so far as I
know. It rather suppressed a way I had of lecturing the
officers on the importance of reducing their personal bag-
gage to a minimum. They got a trick of congratulating
me, very respectfully, on the thoroughness with which
I had once conformed my practice to my precepts.

UP THE EDISTO.

167

CHAPTER VII.

UP THE EDISTO.

N reading military history, one finds the main interest

to lie, undoubtedly, in the great campaigns, where
a man, a regiment, a brigade, is but a pawn in the game.
But there is a charm also in the more free and adventur-
ous life of partisan warfare, where, if the total sphere be
humbler, yet the individual has more relative importance,
and the sense of action is more personal and keen. This
is the reason given by the eccentric Revolutionary bi-
ographer, AVeems, for writing the Life of Washington
first, and then that of Marion. And there were, certainly,
in the early adventures of the colored troops in the De-
partment of the South, some of the same elements of pic-
turesqueness that belonged to Marion's band, on the same
soil, with the added feature that the blacks were fi^htinsr
for their personal liberties, of which Marion had helped
to deprive them.

It is stated by Major-General Gillmore, in his " Siege
of Charleston," as one of the three points in his prelimi-
nary strategy, that an expedition was sent up the Edisto
River to destroy a bridge on the Charleston and Savan-
nah Railway. As one of the early raids of the colored
troops, this expedition may deserve narration, though it
was, in a strategic point of view, a disappointment. It
has already been told, briefly and on the whole with
truth, by Greeley and others, but I will venture on a
more complete account.

The project dated back earlier than General Gill-

168

UP THE EDISTO.

more's siege, and had originally no connection with that
movement. It had been formed by Captain Trowbridge
and myself in camp, and was based on facts learned from
the men. General Saxton and Colonel W. W. H. Da-
vis, the successive post-commanders, had both favored
it. It had been also approved by General Hunter, be-
fore his sudden removal, though he regarded the bridge
as a secondary affair, because there was another railway
communication between the two cities. But as my main
object was to obtain permission to go, I tried to make the
most of all results which might follow, while it was very
clear that the raid would harass and confuse the enemy,
and be the means of bringing away many of the slaves.
General Hunter had, therefore, accepted the project
mainly as a stroke for freedom and black recruits ; and
General Gillmore, because anything that looked toward
action found favor in his eyes, and because it would
be convenient to him at that time to effect a diversion, if
nothing more.

It must be remembered that, after the first capture of
Port Royal, the outlying plantations along the whole
Southern coast were abandoned, and the slaves with-
drawn into the interior. It was necessary to ascend
some river for thirty miles in order to reach the black
population at all. This ascent could only be made by
night, as it was a slow process, and the smoke of a steam-
boat could be seen for a great distance. The streams
were usually shallow, winding, and muddy, and the diffi-
culties of navigation were such as to require a full moon
and a flood tide. It was really no easy matter to bring
everything to bear, especially as every projected raid
must be kept a secret so far as possible. However, we
were now somewhat familiar with such undertakings,

UP THE EDISTO.

169

half military, half naval, and the thing to be done on the
Edisto was precisely what we had proved to be prac-
ticable on the St. Mary's and the St. John's, — to drop
anchor before the enemy's door some morning at day-
break, without his having dreamed of our approach.

Since a raid made by Colonel Montgomery up the
Combahee, two months before, the vigilance of the Rebels
had increased. But we had information that upon the
South Edisto, or Pon-Pon River, the rice plantations
were still being actively worked by a large number of
negroes, in reliance on obstructions placed at the mouth
of that narrow stream, where it joins the main river,
some twenty miles from the coast. This point was known
to be further protected by a battery of unknown strength,
at Wiltown Bluff, a commanding and defensible situation.
The obstructions consisted of a row of strong wooden
piles across the river ; but we convinced ourselves that
these must now be much decayed, and that Captain
Trowbridge, an excellent engineer officer, could remove
them by the proper apparatus. Our proposition was to
man the John Adams, an armed ferry-boat, which had
before done us much service, — and which has now re-
verted to the pursuits of peace, it is said, on the East
Boston line, — to ascend in this to Wiltown Bluff, silence
the battery, and clear a passage through the obstructions.
Leaving the John Adams to protect this point, we could
then ascend the smaller stream with two light-draft boats,
and perhaps burn the bridge, which was ten miles higher,
before the enemy could bring sufficient force to make our
position at Wiltown Bluff untenable.

The expedition was organized essentially upon this
plan. The smaller boats were the Enoch Dean, — a
river steamboat, which carried a ten-pound Parrott gun,

£ .... 8

170.

UP THE EDISTO.

and a small howitzer, — and a little mosquito of a tug,
the Governor Milton, upon which, with the greatest
difficulty, we found room for two twelve-pound Arm-
strong guns, with their gunners, forming a section of the
First Connecticut Battery, under Lieutenant Clinton,
aided by a squad from my own regiment, under Captain
James. The John Adams carried, if I remember
rightly, two Parrott guns (of twenty and ten pounds
calibre) and a howitzer or two. The whole force of
men did not exceed two hundred and fifty.

We left Beaufort, S. C, on the afternoon of July 9th,
1863. In former narrations I have sufficiently described
the charm of a moonlight ascent into a hostile country,
upon an unknown stream, the dark and silent banks, the
rippling water, the wail of the reed-birds, the anxious
watch, the breathless listening, the veiled lights, the
whispered orders. To this was now to be added the
vexation of an insufficient pilotage, for our negro guide
knew only the upper river, and, as it finally proved, not
even that, while, to take us over the bar which ob-
structed the main stream, we must borrow a pilot from
Captain Dutch, whose gunboat blockaded that point.
This active naval officer, however, whose boat expedi-
tions had penetrated all the lower branches of those
rivers, could supply our want, and we borrowed from
him not only a pilot, but a surgeon, to replace our own,
who had been prevented by an accident from coming
with us. Thus accompanied, we steamed over the bar
in safety, had a peaceful ascent, passed the island of
Jehossee, — the fine estate of Governor Aiken, then
left undisturbed by both sides, — and fired our first shell
into the camp at Wiltown Bluff at four o'clock in the
morning.

UP THE EDI ST V.

171

The battery — whether fixed or movable we knew not
— met us with a promptness that proved very short-
lived. After three shots it was silent, but we could not
tell why. The bluff was wooded, and we could see but
little. The only course was to land, under cover of the
guns. As the firing ceased and the smoke cleared away,
I looked across the rice-fields which lay beneath the
bluff. The first sunbeams glowed upon their emerald
levels, and on the blossoming hedges along the rectangu-
lar dikes. What were those black dots which every-
where appeared ? Those moist meadows had become
alive with human heads, and along each narrow path
came a straggling file of men and women, all on a run for
the river-side. I went ashore with a boat-load of troops
at once. The landing was difficult and marshy. The as-
tonished negroes tugged us up the bank, and gazed on us
as if we had been Cortez and Columbus. They kept ar-
riving by land much faster than we could come by water ;
every moment increased the crowd, the jostling, the mu-
tual clinging, on that miry foothold. What a scene it
was ! With the wild faces, eager figures, strange gar-
ments, it seemed, as one of the poor things reverently
suggested. " like notin' but de judgment day." Presently
they began to come from the houses also, with their little
bundles on their heads ; then with larger bundles. Old
women, trotting on the narrow paths, would kneel to
pray a little prayer, still balancing the bundle ; and then
would suddenly spring up, urged by the accumulating
procession behind, and would move on till irresistibly
compelled by thankfulness to dip down for another invo-
cation. Reaching us, every human being must grasp
our hands, amid exclamations of Bress you, mas'r,"
and ik Bress de Lord," at the rate of four of the latter

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UP THE EDISTO.

ascriptions to one of the former. Women brought chil-
dren on their shoulders ; small black boys carried on
their backs little brothers equally inky, and, gravely de-
positing them, shook hands. Never had I seen human
beings so clad, or rather so unclad, in such amazing
squalidness and destitution of garments. I recall one
small urchin without a rag of clothing save the basque
waist of a lady's dress, bristling with whalebones, and
worn wrong side before, beneath which his smooth ebony
legs emerged like those of an ostrich from its plumage.
How weak is imagination, how cold is memory, that I
ever cease, for a day of my life, to see before me the
picture of that astounding scene !

Yet at the time we were perforce a little impatient of
all this piety, protestation, and hand-pressing ; for the
vital thing was to ascertain what force had been stationed
at the bluff, and whether it was yet withdrawn. The
slaves, on the other hand, were too much absorbed in
their prospective freedom to aid us in taking any further
steps to secure it. Captain Trowbridge, who had by
this time landed at a different point, got quite into
despair over the seeming deafness of the people to all
questions. " How many soldiers are there on the bluff? "
he asked of the first-comer.

" Mas'r," said the man, stuttering terribly, " I c-c-c — "

" Tell me how many soldiers there are ! " roared
Trowbridge, in his mighty voice, and all but shaking the
poor old thing, in his thirst for information.

" O mas'r," recommenced in terror the incapacitated
witness, " I c-c-carpenter ! " holding up eagerly a little
stump of a hatchet, his sole treasure, as if his profession
ought to excuse him from all military opinions.

I wish that it were possible to present all this scene

UP THE EDISTO.

173

from the point of view of the slaves themselves. It can
be most nearly done, perhaps, by quoting the description
given of a similar scene on the Combahee River, by a
very aged man, who had been brought down on the pre-
vious raid, already mentioned. I wrote it down in tent,
long after, while the old man recited the tale, with much
gesticulation, at the door ; and it is by far the best
glimpse I have ever had, through a negro's eyes, at these
wonderful birthdays of freedom.

u De people was all a hoein', mas'r," said the old man.
" Dey was a hoein' in the rice-field, when de gunboats
come. Den ebry man drap dem hoe, and lefF de rice.
De mas'r he stand and call, ' Run to de wood for hide !
Yankee come, sell you to Cuba ! run for hide ! ' Ebry
man he run, and, my God ! run all toder way !

"Mas'r stand in de wood, peep, peep, faid for truss
[afraid to trust]. He say, 6 Run to de wood ! ' and
ebry man run by him, straight to de boat.

" De brack sojer so presumptious, dey come right
ashore, hold up dere head. Fus' ting I know, dere was
a barn, ten tousand bushel rough rice, all in a blaze, den
mas'r's great house, all cracklin' up de roof. Did n't I
keer for see 'em blaze ? Lor, mas'r, did n't care notin'
at all, I was gwine to de boat"

Dore's Don Quixote could not surpass the sublime ab-
sorption in which the gaunt old man, with arm uplifted,
described this stage of affairs, till he ended in a shrewd
chuckle, worthy of Sancho Panza. Then he resumed.

" De brack sojers so presumptious ! " This he repeated
three times, slowly shaking his head in an ecstasy of ad-
miration. It flashed upon me that the apparition of a
black soldier must amaze those still in bondage, much
as a butterfly just from the chrysalis might astound his

174

UP THE EDISTO.

fellow-grubs. I inwardly vowed that my soldiers, at
least, should be as " presumptious " as *I could make
them. Then he went on.

" Ole woman and I go down to de boat ; den dey say
behind us, ' Rebels comin' ! Rebels comin' ! ' Ole wo-
man say, 6 Come ahead, come plenty ahead ! ' I hab
notin' on but my shirt and pantaloon ; ole woman one
single frock he hab on, and one handkerchief on he head ;
I leff all-two my blanket and run for de Rebel come,
and den dey did n't come, did n't truss for come.

"Ise eighty-eight year old, mas'r. My ole Mas'r
Lowndes keep all de ages in a big book, and when we
come to age ob sense we mark em down ebry year, so I
know. Too ole for come ? Mas'r joking. Neber too ole
for leave de land o' bondage. I old, but great good for
chil'en, gib tousand tank ebry day. Young people can
go through, force [forcibly], mas'r, but de ole folk mus'
go slow."

Such emotions as these, no doubt, were inspired by our
arrival, but we could only hear their hasty utterance in
passing ; our duty being, with the small force already
landed, to take possession of the bluff. Ascending, with
proper precautions, the wooded hill, we soon found our-
selves in the deserted camp of a light battery, amid scat-
tered equipments and suggestions of a very unattractive
breakfast. As soon as possible, skirmishers were thrown
out through the woods to the farther edge of the bluff,
while a party searched the houses, finding the usual large
supply of furniture and pictures, — brought up for safety
from below, — but no soldiers. Captain Trowbridge then
got the John Adams beside the row of piles, and went to
work for their removal.

Again I had the exciting sensation of being within the

UP THE EDI ST '0.

175

hostile lines, — the eager exploration^, the doubts, the
watchfulness, the li-tening for every sound of coming
hoofs. Presently a horse's tread was heard in earnest,
but it was a squad of our own men bringing in two cap-
tured cavalry soldiers. One of these, a sturdy fellow,
submitted quietly to his lot, only begging that, whenever
we should evacuate the bluff, a note should be left behind
stating that he was a prisoner. The other, a very young
man, and a member of the u Rebel Troop," a sort of
Cadet corps among the Charleston youths, came to me in
great wrath, complaining that the corporal of our squad
had kicked him after he had surrendered. His air of
offended pride was very rueful, and it did indeed seem a
pathetic reversal of fortunes for the two races. To be
sure, the youth was a scion of one of the foremost fam-
ilies of South Carolina, and when I considered the wrongs
which the black race had encountered from those of his
blood, first and last, it seemed as if the most scrupulous
Recording Angel might tolerate one final kick to square
the account. But I reproved the corporal, who respect-
fully disclaimed the charge, and said the kick was an in-
cident of the scuffle. It certainly was not their habit
to show such pOor malice ; they thought too well of them-
selves.

His demeanor seemed less lofty, but rather piteous,
when he implored me not to put him on board any vessel
which was to ascend the upper stream, and hinted, by
awful implications, the danger of such ascent. This
meant torpedoes, a peril which we treated, in those days,
with rather mistaken contempt. But we found none on
the Edisto, and it may be that it was only a foolish at-
tempt to alarm us.

Meanwhile, Trowbridge was toiling away at the row

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UP THE EDISTO.

of piles, which proved easier to draw out than to saw
asunder, either work being hard enough. It took far
longer than we had hoped, and we saw noon approach
and the tide rapidly fall, taking with it, inch by inch, our
hopes of effecting a surprise at the bridge. During this
time, and indeed all day, the detachments on shore, under
Captains Whitney and Sampson, were having occasional
skirmishes with the enemy, while the colored people were
swarming to the shore, or running to and fro like ants,
with the poor treasures of their houses. Our busy
Quartermaster, Mr. Bingham - — who died afterwards from
the overwork of that sultry day — was transporting the
refugees on board the steamer, or hunting up bales of
cotton, or directing the burning of rice-houses, in accord-
ance with our orders. No dwelling-houses were destroyed
or plundered by our men, — Sherman's " bummers " not
having yet arrived, — though I asked no questions as to
what the plantation negroes might bring in their great
bundles. One piece of property, I must admit, seemed
a lawful capture, — a United States dress-sword, of the
old pattern, which had belonged to the Rebel general
who afterwards gave the order to bury Colonel Shaw
" with his niggers.'5 That I have retained, not without
some satisfaction, to this day.

A passage having been cleared at last, and the tide
having turned by noon, we lost no time in attempting the
ascent, leaving the bluff to be held by the John Adams,
and by the small force on shore. We were scarcely
above the obstructions, however, when the little tug went
aground, and the Enoch Dean, ascending a mile farther,
had an encounter with a battery on the right, — perhaps
our old enemy, — and drove it back. Soon after, she
also ran aground, a misfortune of which our opponent

UP THE EDISTO.

177

strangely took no advantage ; and, on getting off, I
thought it best to drop down to the bluff again, as the
tide was still hopelessly low. None can tell, save those
who have tried them, the vexations of those muddy
Southern streams, navigable only during a few hours of
flood-tide.

After waiting an hour, the two small vessels again
tried the ascent. The enemy on the right had disap-
peared ; but we could now see, far off on our left, an-
other light battery moving parallel with the river,
apparently to meet us at some upper bend. But for
the present we were safe, with the low rice-fields on each
side of us ; and the scene was so peaceful, it seemed as
if all danger were done. For the first time, we saw in
South Carolina blossoming river-banks and low emerald
meadows, that seemed like New England. Everywhere
there were the same rectangular fields, smooth canals,
and bushy dikes. A few negroes stole out to us in dug-
outs, and breathlessly told us how others had been hur-
ried away by the overseers. We glided safely on, mile
after mile. The day was unutterably hot, but all else
seemed propitious. The men had their combustibles all
ready to fire the bridge, and our hopes were unbounded.

But by degrees the channel grew more tortuous and
difficult, and while the little Milton glided smoothly over
everything, the Enoch Dean, my own boat, repeatedly
grounded. On every occasion of especial need, too,
something went wrrong in her machinery, — her engine
being constructed on some wholly new patent, of which,
I should hope, this trial would prove entirely sufficient.
The black pilot, who was not a soldier, grew more and
more bewildered, and declared that it was the channel,
not his brain, which had gone wrong ; the captain, a little

8* L

178

UP THE EDISTO.

elderly man, sat wringing his hands in the pilot-box ;
and the engineer appeared to be mingling his groans
with those of the diseased engine. Meanwhile I, in
equal ignorance of machinery and channel, had to give
orders only justified by minute acquaintance with both.
So I navigated on general principles, until they grounded
us on a mud-bank, just below a wooded point, and some
two miles from the bridge of our destination. It was
with a pang that I waved to Major Strong, who was on
the other side of the channel in a tug, not to risk ap-
proaching us, but to steam on and finish the work, if he
could.

Short was his triumph. Gliding round the point, he
found himself instantly engaged with a light battery of
four or six guns, doubtless the same we had seen in the
distance. The Milton was within two hundred and fifty
yards. The Connecticut men fought their guns well,
aided by the blacks, and it was exasperating for us to
hear the shots, while we could see nothing and do noth-
ing. The scanty ammunition of our bow gun was ex-
hausted, and the gun in the stern was useless, from the
position in which we lay. In vain we moved the men
from side to side, rocking the vessel, to dislodge it. The
heat was terrific that August afternoon ; I remember I
found myself constantly changing places, on the scorched
deck, to keep my feet from being blistered. At last the
officer in charge of the gun, a hardy lumberman from
Maine, got the stern of the vessel so far round that he
obtained the range of the battery through the cabin win-
dows, " but it would be necessary," he coolly added, on
reporting to me this fact, " to shoot away the corner of
the cabin." I knew that this apartment was newly painted
and gilded, and the idol of the poor captain's heart ; but

UP THE EDI ST 0.

179

it was plain that even the thought of his own upholstery
could not make the poor soul more wretched than he
was. So I bade Captain Dolly blaze away, and thus we
took our hand in the little game, though at a sacrifice.

It was of no use. Down drifted our little consort
round the point, her engine disabled and her engineer
killed, as we afterwards found, though then we could
only look and wonder. Still pluckily firing, she floated
by upon the tide, which had now just turned ; and when,
with a last desperate effort, we got off, our engine had
one of its impracticable fits, and we could only follow her.
The day was waning, and all its range of possibility had
lain within the limits of that one tide.

All our previous expeditions had been so successful it
now seemed hard to turn back ; the river-banks and rice-
fields, so beautiful before, seemed only a vexation now.
But the swift current bore us on, and after our Parthian
shots had died away, a new discharge of artillery opened
upon us, from our first antagonist of the morning, which
still kept the other side of the stream. It had taken up
a strong position on another bluff, almost out of range
of the John Adams, but within easy range of us. The
sharpest contest of the day was before us. Happily the
engine and engineer were now behaving well, and we
were steering in a channel already traversed, and of
which the dangerous points were known. But we had a
long, straight reach of river before us, heading directly
toward the battery, which, having once got our range,
had only to keep it, while we could do nothing in return.
The Rebels certainly served their guns well. For the
first time I discovered that there were certain compen-
sating advantages in a slightly built craft, as compared
with one more substantial ; the missiles never lodged in

180

UP THE EDISTO.

the vessel, but crashed through some thin partition as if
it were paper, to explode beyond us, or fall harmless in
the water. Splintering, the chief source of wounds and
death in wooden ships, was thus entirely avoided; the
danger was that our machinery might be disabled, or
that shots might strike below the water-line and sink us.

This, however, did not happen. Fifteen projectiles,
as we afterwards computed, passed through the vessel
or cut the rising. Yet few casualties occurred, and

CO © "

those instantly fatal. As my orderly stood leaning on a
comrade's shoulder, the head of the latter was shot off.
At last I myself felt a sudden blow in the side, as if from
some prize-fighter, doubling me up for a moment, while I
sank upon a seat. It proved afterwards to have been
produced by the grazing of a ball, which, without tearing
a garment, had yet made a large part of my side black
and blue, leaving a sensation of paralysis which made it
difficult to stand. Supporting myself on Captain Rog-
ers, I tried to comprehend what had happened, and I
remember being impressed by an odd feeling that I had
now got my share, and should henceforth be a great deal
safer than any of the rest. I am told that this often fol-
lows one's first experience of a wound.

But this immediate contest, sharp as it was, proved
brief ; a turn in the river enabled us to use our stern gun,
and we soon glided into the comparative shelter of Wil-
town Bluff. There, however, we were to encounter the
danger of shipwreck, superadded to that of fight. When
the passage through the piles was first cleared, it had
been marked by stakes, lest the rising tide should cover
the remaining piles, and make it difficult to run the pas-
sage. But when we again reached it, the stakes had
somehow been knocked away, the piles were just cov-

UP THE EDI S TO.

181

ered by the swift current, and the little tug-boat was
aground upon them. She came off easily, however, with
our aid, and, when we in turn essayed the passage, we
grounded also, but more firmly. We getting off at last,
and making the passage, the tug again became lodged,
when nearly past danger, and all our efforts proved
powerless to pull her through. I therefore dropped
down below, and sent the John Adams to her aid, while
I superintended the final recall of the pickets, and the
embarkation of the remaining refugees.

While thus engaged, I felt little solicitude about the
boats above. It was certain that the John Adams could
safely go close to the piles on the lower side, that she
was very strong, and that the other was very light. Still,
it was natural to cast some anxious glances up the river,
and it was with surprise that I presently saw a canoe
descending, which contained Major Strong. Coming on
board, he told me with some excitement that the tug
could not possibly be got off, and he wished for orders.

It was no time to consider whether it was not his
place to have given orders, instead of going half a mile
to seek them. I was by this time so far exhausted that
everything seemed to pass by me as by one in a dream ;
but I got into a boat, pushed up stream, met presently
the John Adams returning, and was informed by the offi-
cer in charge of the Connecticut battery that he had
abandoned the tug, and — worse news yet — that his
guns had been thrown overboard. It seemed to me
then, and has always seemed, that this sacrifice was
utterly needless, because, although the captain of the
John Adams had refused to ri^k his vessel by going near
enough to receive the guns, he should have been com-
pelled to do so. Though the thing was done without my

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UP THE EDISTO.

knowledge, and beyond my reach, yet, as commander of
the expedition, I was technically responsible. It was
hard to blame a lieutenant when his senior had shrunk
from a decision, and left him alone ; nor was it easy to
blame Major Strong, whom I knew to be a man of per-
sonal courage, though without much decision of character.
He was subsequently tried by court-martial and acquitted,
after which he resigned, and was lost at sea on his way
home.

The tug, being thus abandoned, must of course be
burned to prevent her falling into the enemy's hands.
Major Strong went with prompt fearlessness to do this,
at my order; after which he remained on the Enoch
Dean, and I went on board the John Adams, being com-
pelled to succumb at last, and transfer all remaining
responsibility to Captain Trowbridge. Exhausted as I
was, I could still observe, in a vague way, the scene
around me. Every available corner of the boat seemed
like some vast auction-room of second-hand goods. Great
piles of bedding and bundles lay on every side, with
black heads emerging and black forms reclining in every
stage of squalidness. Some seemed ill, or wounded, or
asleep, others were chattering eagerly among themselves,
singing, praying, or soliloquizing on joys to come. " Bress
de Lord," I heard one woman say, " I spec' I get salt
. victual now, — notin' but fresh victual dese six months,
but Ise get salt victual now," — thus reversing, under
pressure of the salt-embargo, the usual anticipations of
voyagers.

Trowbridge told me, long after, that, on seeking a fan
for my benefit, he could find but one on board. That
was in the hands of a fat old " aunty," who had just em-
barked, and sat on an enormous bundle of her goods, in

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183

everybody's way, fanning herself vehemently, and ejacu-
lating, as her gasping breath would permit, " Oh ! Do,
Jesus ! Oh ! Do, Jesus ! " when the captain abruptly
disarmed her of the fan, and left her continuing her
pious exercises.

Thus we glided down the river in the waning light.
Once more we encountered a battery, making five in all ;
I could hear the guns of the assailants, and could not
distinguish the explosion of their shells from the answer-
ing throb of our own guns. The kind Quartermaster
kept bringing me news of what occurred, like Rebecca
in Front-de-Boeuf's castle, but discreetly withholding
any actual casualties. Then all faded into safety and
sleep ; and we reached Beaufort in the morning, after
thirty-six hours of absence. A kind friend, who acted
in South Carolina a nobler part amid tragedies than in
any of her early stage triumphs, met us with an ambu-
lance at the wharf, and the prisoners, the wounded, and
the dead were duly attended.

The reader will not care for any personal record of
convalescence ; though, among the general military lauda-
tions of whiskey, it is worth while to say that one life
was saved, in the opinion of my surgeons, by an habitual
abstinence from it, leaving no food for peritoneal inflam-
mation to feed upon. The able-bodied men who had
joined us were sent to aid General Gillmore in the
trenches, while their families were established in huts
and tents on St. Helena Island. A year after, greatly to
the delight of the regiment, in taking possession of a
battery which they had helped to capture on James Isl-
and, they found in their hands the selfsame guns which
they had seen thrown overboard from the Governor
Milton. They then felt that their account with the

184

UP THE EDISTO.

enemy was squared, and could proceed to further opera-
tions.

Before the war, how great a thing seemed the rescue
of even one man from slavery ; and since the war has
emancipated all, how little seems the liberation of two
hundred ! But no one then knew how the contest might
end ; and when I think of that morning sunlight, those
emerald fields, those thronging numbers, the old women
with their prayers, and the little boys with their living
burdens, I know that the day was worth all it cost, and
more.

THE BABY OF THE REGIME XT. 185

CHAPTER Yin.
THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

WE were in our winter camp on Port Royal Island.
It was a lovely November morning, soft and
spring-like ; the mocking-birds were singing, and the
cotton-fields still white with fleecy pods. Morning drill
was over, the men were cleaning their gnns and singing-
very happily ; the officers were in their tents, reading
still more happily their letters just arrived from home.
Suddenly I heard a knock at my tent-door, and the
latch clicked. It was the only latch in camp, and I was
very proud of it, and the officers always clicked it as
loudly as possible, in order to gratify my feelings. The
door opened, and the Quartermaster thrust in the most
beaming face I ever saw.

<; Colonel," said he, " there are great news for the
regiment. My wife and baby are coming by the next
steamer ! "

" Baby ! " said I, in amazement. " Q. M., you are
beside yourself." (We always called the Quartermaster
Q. M. for shortness.) " There was a pass sent to your
wife, but nothing was ever said about a baby. Baby
indeed ! "

u But the baby was included in the pas?," replied the
triumphant father-of-a-family. ki You don't suppose my
wife would come down here without her baby ! Besides,
the pass itself permits her to bring necessary baggage,
and is not a baby six months old necessary baggage ? "

" But, my dear fellow," said I, rather anxiously, " how

186

THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT

can you make the little thing comfortable in a tent,
amidst these rigors of a South Carolina winter, when it
is uncomfortably hot for drill at noon, and ice forms by
your bedside at night ? "

" Trust me for that," said the delighted papa, and
went off whistling. I could hear him telling the same
news to three others, at least, before he got to his own
tent.

That day the preparations began, and soon his abode
was a wonder of comfort. There were posts and rafters,
and a raised floor, and a great chimney, and a door with
hinges, — every luxury except a latch, and that he could
not have, for mine was the last that could be purchased.
One of the regimental carpenters was employed to make a
cradle, and another to make a bedstead high enough for
the cradle to go under. Then there must be a bit of red
carpet beside the bedstead, and thus the progress of
splendor went on.- The wife of one of the colored ser-
geants was engaged to act as nursery-maid. She was a
very respectable young woman ; the only objection to
her being that she smoked a pipe. But we thought that
perhaps Baby might not dislike tobacco ; and if she did,
she would have excellent opportunities to break the pipe
in pieces.

In due time the steamer arrived, and Baby and her
mother were among the passengers. The little recruit
was soon settled in her new cradle, and slept in it as if
she had never known any other. The sergeant's wife
soon had her on exhibition through the neighborhood, and
from that time forward she was quite a queen among us.
She had sweet blue eyes and pretty brown hair, with
round, dimpled cheeks, and that perfect dignity which is
so beautiful in a baby. She hardly ever cried, and was

THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT. 187

not at all timid. She would go to anybody, and yet did
not encourage any romping from any but the most in-
timate friends. She always wore a warm long-sleeved
scarlet cloak with a hood, and in this costume was car-
ried or u toted," as the soldiers said, all about the camp.
At " guard-mounting" in the morning, when the men who
are to go on guard duty for the day are drawn up to be
inspected, Baby was always there, to help inspect them.
She did not say much, but she eyed them very closely,
and seemed fully to appreciate their bright buttons.
Then the Officer-of-the-Day, who appears at guard-
mounting with his sword and sash, and comes afterwards
to the Colonel's tent for orders, would come and speak to
Baby on his way, and receive her orders first. When
the time came for drill she was usually present to watch
the troops ; and when the drum beat for dinner she liked
to see the long row of men in each company march up
to the cook-house, in single file, each with tin cup and
plate.

During the day, in pleasant weather, she might be
seen in her nurse's arms, about the company streets, the
centre of an admiring circle, her scarlet costume looking
very pretty amidst the shining black cheeks and neat
blue uniforms of the soldiers. At " dress-parade," just
before sunset, she was always an attendant. As I stood
be'bre the regiment, I could see the little spot of red out
of the corner of my eye, at one end of the long line of
men ; and I looked with so much interest for her small
person, that, instead of saying at the proper time, u At-
tention, Battalion ! Shoulder arms ! " — it is a wonder
that I did not say, " Shoulder babies ! "

Our little lady was very impartial, and distributed her
kind looks to everybody. She had not the slightest

188 THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

prejudice against color, and did not care* in the least
whether her particular friends were black or white. Her
especial favorites, I think, were the drummer-boys, who
were not my favorites by any means, for they were a
roguish set of scamps, and gave more trouble than all
the grown men in the regiment. I think Annie liked
them because they were small, and made a noise, and
had red caps like her hood, and red facings on their
jackets, and also because they occasionally stood on their
heads for her amusement. After dress-parade the whole
drum-corps would march to the great flag-staff, and wait
till just sunset-time, when they would beat " the retreat,"
and then the flag would be hauled down, — a great
festival for Annie. Sometimes the Sergeant-Major
would wrap her in the great folds of the flag, after it
was taken down, and she would peep out very prettily
from amidst the stars and stripes, like a new-born God-
dess of Liberty.

About once a month, some inspecting officer was sent
to the camp by the general in command, to see to the
condition of everything in the regiment, from bayonets
to buttons. It was usually a long and tiresome process,
and, when everything else was done, I used to tell the
officer that I had one thing more for him to inspect,
which was peculiar to our regiment. Then I would
send for Baby to be exhibited, and I never saw an in-
specting officer, old or young, who did not look pleased
at the sudden appearance of the little, fresh, smiling
creature, — a flower in the midst of war. And Annie
in her turn would look at them, with the true baby dig-
nity in her face, — that deep, earnest look which babies
often have, and which people think so wonderful when
Raphael paints it, although they might often see just

■

THE BABY OF THE REGIMEXT. 189

the same expression in the faces of their own darlings at
home.

Meanwhile Annie seemed to like the camp style of
housekeeping very much. Her father's tent was double,
and he used the front apartment for his office, and the
inner room for parlor and bedroom ; while the nurse had
a separate tent and wash-room behind all. I remember
that, the first time I went there in the evening, it was to
borrow some writing-paper; and while Baby's mother
was hunting for it in the front tent, I heard a great coo-
ing and murmuring in the inner room. I asked if Annie
was still awake, and her mother told me to go in and see.
Pushing aside the canvas door, I entered. No sign of
anybody was to be seen ; but a variety of soft little happy
noises seemed to come from some unseen corner. Mrs.
C. came quietly in, pulled away the counterpane of her
own bed, and drew out the rough cradle where lay the
little damsel, perfectly happy, and wider awake than any-
thing but a baby possibly can be. She looked as if the
seclusion of a dozen family bedsteads would not be enough
to discourage her spirits, and I saw that camp life was
likely to suit her very well.

A tent can be kept very warm, for it is merely a house
with a thinner wall than usual ; and I do not think that
Baby felt the cold much more than if she had been at
home that winter. The great trouble is, that a tent-
chimney, not being built very high, is apt to smoke when
the wind is in a certain direction ; and when that hap-
pens it is hardly possible to stay inside. So we used to
build the chimneys of some tents on the east side, and
those of others on the west, and thus some of the tents
were always comfortable. I have seen Baby's mother
running in a hard rain, with little Red-Eiding-Hood in

190 THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

her arms, to take refuge with the Adjutant's wife, when
every other abode was full of smoke ; and I must admit
that there were one or two windy days that season when
nobody could really keep warm, and Annie had to remain
ignominiously in her cradle, with as many clothes on as
possible, for almost the whole time.

The Quartermaster's tent was very attractive to us in
the evening. I remember that once, on passing near it
after nightfall, I heard our Major's fine voice singing
Methodist hymns within, and Mrs. C.'s sweet tones chim-
ing in. So I peeped through the outer door. The fire
was burning very pleasantly in the inner tent, and the
scrap of new red carpet made the floor look quite magnif-
icent. The Major sat on a box, our surgeon on a stool ;
" Q. M." and his wife, and the Adjutant's wife, and one
of the captains, were all sitting on the bed, singing as
well as they knew how ; and the baby was under the
bed. Baby had retired for the night, was overshadowed,
suppressed, sat upon ; the singing went on, and she had
wandered away into her own land of dreams, nearer to
heaven, perhaps, than any pitch their voices could attain.
I went in, and joined the party. Presently the music
stopped, and another officer was sent for, to sing some
particular song. At this pause the invisible innocent
waked a little, and began to cluck and coo.

" It 's the kitten," exclaimed somebody.

" It 's my baby ! " exclaimed Mrs. C. triumphantly, in
that tone of unfailing personal pride which belongs to
young mothers.

The people all got up from the bed for a moment,
while Annie was pulled from beneath, wide awake and
placid as usual ; and she sat in one lap or another dur-
ing the rest of the concert, sometimes winking at the

THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT. 191

candle, but usually listening to the songs, with a calm
and critical expression, as if she could make as much
noise as any of them, whenever she saw fit to try. Not
a sound did she make, however, except one little soft
sneeze, which led to an immediate flood-tide of red shawl,
covering every part of her but the forehead. But I soon
hinted that the concert had better be ended, because I
knew from observation that the small damsel had care-
fully watched a regimental inspection and a brigade drill
on that day, and that an interval of repose was certainly
necessary.

Annie did not long remain the only baby in camp.
One day, on going out to the stables to look at a horse,
I heard a sound of baby-talk, addressed by some man to
a child near by, and, looking round the corner of a tent,
I saw that one of the hostlers had something black and
round, lying on the sloping side of a tent, with which he
was playing very eagerly. It proved to be his baby, a
plump, shiny thing, younger than Annie ; and I never
saw a merrier picture than the happy father frolicking
with his child, while the mother stood quietly by. This
was Baby Number Two, and she stayed in camp several
weeks, the two innocents meeting each other every day,
in the placid indifference that belonged to their years ;
both were happy little healthy things, and it never seemed
to cross their minds that there was any difference in their
complexions. As I said before, Annie was not troubled
by any prejudice in regard to color, nor do I suppose that
the other little maiden was.

Annie enjoyed the tent-life very much ; but when we
were sent out on picket soon after, she enjoyed it still
more. Our head-quarters were at a deserted plantation
house, with one large parlor, a dining-room, and a few

192

THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

bedrooms. Baby's father and mother had a room up
stairs, with a stove whose pipe went straight out at the
window. This was quite comfortable, though half the
windows were broken, and there was no glass and no
glazier to mend them. The windows of the large parlor
were in much the same condition, though we had an im-
mense fireplace, where we had a bright fire when-
ever it was cold, and always in the evening. The walls
of this room were very dirty, and it took our ladies sev-
eral days to cover all the unsightly places with wreaths
and hangings of evergreen. In this performance Baby
took an active part. Her duties consisted in sitting in a
great nest of evergreen, pulling and fingering the fragrant
leaves, and occasionally giving a little cry of glee when
she had accomplished some piece of decided mischief.

There was less entertainment to be found in the camp
itself at this time ; but the household at head-quarters
was larger than Baby had been accustomed to. We had
a great deal of company, moreover, and she had quite a
gay life of it. She usually made her appearance in the
large parlor soon after breakfast ; and to dance her for a
few moments in our arms was one of the first daily duties
of each one. Then the morning reports began to arrive
from the different outposts, — a mounted officer or cou-
rier coming in from each place, dismounting at the door,
and clattering in with jingling arms and spurs, each a
new excitement for Annie. She usually got some atten-
tion from any officer who came, receiving with her
wonted dignity any daring caress. When the messen-
gers had ceased to be interesting, there were always the
horses to look at, held or tethered under the trees beside
the sunny piazza. After the various couriers had been
received, other messengers would be despatched to the

THE BABY OF THE REGIME XT. 193

town, seven miles away, and Baby had all the excitement
of their mounting and departure. Her father was often
one of the riders, and would sometimes seize Annie for a
good-by kiss, place her on the saddle before him, gallop
her round the house once or twice, and then give her
back to her nurse's arms again. She was perfectly fear-
less, and such boisterous attentions never frightened her,
nor did they ever interfere with her sweet, infantine self-
possession.

After the riding-parties had gone, there was the piazza
still for entertainment, with a sentinel pacing up and
down before it ; but Annie did not enjoy the sentinel,
though his breastplate and buttons shone like gold, so
much as the hammock which always hung swinging be-
tween the pillars. It was a pretty hammock, with great
open meshes ; and she delighted to lie in it, and have the
netting closed above her, so that she could only be seen
through the apertures. I can see her now, the fresh
little rosy thing, in her blue and scarlet wrappings, with
one round and dimpled arm thrust forth through the net-
ting, and the other grasping an armful of blushing roses
and fragrant magnolias. She looked like those pretty
French bas-reliefs of Cupids imprisoned in baskets, and
peeping through. That hammock was a very useful
appendage ; it was a couch for us, a cradle for Baby, a
nest for the kittens ; and we had, moreover, a little hen,
which tried to roost there every night.

When the mornings were colder, and the stove up
stairs smoked the wrong way, Baby was brought down
in a very incomplete state of toilet, and finished her
dressing by the great fire. We found her bare shoulders
very becoming, and she was very much interested in her
own little pink toes. After a very slow dressing, she
9 H

194 THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

had a still slower breakfast out of a tin cup of warm
milk, of which she generally spilt a good deal, as she had
much to do in watching everybody who came into the
room, and seeing that there was no mischief done. Then
she would be placed on the floor, on our only piece of
carpet, and the kittens would be brought in for her to
play with.

We had, at different times, a variety of pets, of whom
Annie did not take much notice. Sometimes we had
young partridges, caught by the drummer-boys in trap-
cages. The children called them " Bob and Chloe," be-
cause the first notes of the male and female sound like
thpse names. One day I brought home an opossum,
with her blind bare little young clinging to the droll
pouch where their mothers keep them. Sometimes we
had pretty green lizards, their color darkening or deep-
ening, like that of chameleons, in light or shade. But
the only pets that took Baby's fancy were the kittens.
They perfectly delighted her, from the first moment she
saw them ; they were the only things younger than her-
self that she had ever beheld, and the only things softer
than themselves that her small hands had grasped. It
was astonishing to see how much the kittens would en-
dure from her. They could scarcely be touched by any
one else without mewing ; but when Annie seized one
by the head and the other by the tail, and rubbed them
violently together, they did not make a sound. I sup-
pose that a baby's grasp is really soft, even if it seems
ferocious, and so it gives less pain than one would think.
At any rate, the little animals had the best of it very
soon ; for they entirely outstripped Annie in learning to
walk, and they could soon scramble away beyond her
reach, while she sat in a sort of dumb despair, unable to

THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT. 195

comprehend why anything so much smaller than herself
should be so much nimbler. Meanwhile, the kittens
would sit up and look at her with the most provoking in-
difference, just out of arm's length, until some of us would
take pity on the young lady, and toss her furry play-
things back to her again. " Little baby," she learned to
call them ; and these were the very first words she
spoke.

Baby had evidently a natural turn for wrar, further cul-
tivated by an intimate knowledge of drills and parades.
The nearer she came to actual conflict the better she
seemed to like it, peaceful as her own little ways might
be. Twice, at least, while she was with us on picket,
we had alarms from the Rebel troops, who would bring
down cannon to the opposite side of the Ferry, about two
miles beyond us, and throw shot and shell over upon our
side. Then the officer at the Ferry would think that
there was to be an attack made, and couriers would be
sent, riding to and fro, and the men would all be called
to arms in a hurry, and the ladies at head- quarters would
all put on their best bonnets and come down stairs, and
the ambulance would be made ready to carry them to a
place of safety before the expected fight. On such occa-
sions Baby was in all her glory. She shouted with de-
light at being suddenly uncribbed and thrust into her
little scarlet cloak, and brought down stairs, at an utterly
unusual and improper hour, to a piazza with lights and
people and horses and general excitement. She crowed
and gurgled and made gestures with her little fists, and
screamed out what seemed to be her advice on the mili-
tary situation, as freely as if she had been a newspaper
editor. Except that it was rather difficult to understand
her precise directions, I do not know but the whole Rebel

196 THE BABY OF THE REGIMENT.

force might have been captured through her plans. And
at any rate, I should much rather obey her orders than
those of some generals whom I have known ; for she at
least meant no harm, and would lead one into no mis-
chief.

However, at last the danger, such as it was, would be
all over, and the ladies would be induced to go peace-
fully to bed again ; and Annie would retreat with them
to her ignoble cradle, very much disappointed, and look-
ing vainly back at the more martial scene below. The
next morning she would seem to have forgotten all. about
it, and would spill her bread and milk by the fire as if
nothing had happened.

I suppose we hardly knew, at the time, how large a
part of the sunshine of our daily lives was contributed by
dear little Annie. Yet, when I now look back on that
pleasant Southern home, she seems as essential a part of
it as the mocking-birds or the magnolias, and I cannot
convince myself that in returning to it I should not find
her there. But Annie went back, with the spring, to her
Northern birthplace, and then passed away from this
earth before her little feet had fairly learned to tread its
paths ; and when I meet her next it must be in some
world where there is triumph without armies, and where
innocence is trained in scenes of peace. I know, how-
ever, that her little life, short as it seemed, was a blessing
to us all, giving a perpetual image of serenity and sweet-
ness, recalling the lovely atmosphere of far-off homes,
and holding us by unsuspected ties to whatsoever things
were pure.

XEGRO SPIRITUALS.

197

CHAPTER IX.
NE GEO SPIRITUALS.

THE war brought to some of us, besides its direct
experiences, many a strange fulfilment of dream 3
of other days. For instance, the present writer had been
a faithful student of the Scottish ballads, and had always
envied Sir Walter the delight of tracing them out amid
their own heather, and of writing them down piecemeal
from the lips of aged crones. It was a strange enjoy-
ment, therefore, to be suddenly brought into the midst
of a kindred world of unwritten songs, as simple and
indigenous as the Border Minstrelsy, more uniformly
plaintive, 'almost always more quaint, and often as essen-
tially poetic.

This interest was rather increased by the fact that I
had for many years heard of this class of songs under the
name of " Negro Spirituals," and had even heard some
of them sung by friends from South Carolina. I could
now gather on their own soil these strange plants, which
I had before seen as in museums alone. True, the indi-
vidual songs rarely coincided ; there was a line here, a
chorus there, — just enough to fix the class, but this was
unmistakable. It was not strange that they differed,
for the range seemed almost endless, and South Carolina,
Georgia, and Florida seemed to have nothing but the
generic character in common, until all were mingled in
the united stock of camp-melodies.

Often in the starlit evening I have returned from some
lonely ride by the swift river, or on the plover-haunted

198

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

barrens, and, entering the camp, have silently approached
some glimmering fire, round which the dusky figures
moved in the rhythmical barbaric dance the negroes call
a "shout," chanting, often harshly, but always in the
most perfect time, some monotonous refrain. Writing
down in the darkness, as I best could, — perhaps with
my hand in the safe covert of my pocket, — the words of
the song, I have afterwards carried it to my tent, like
some captured bird or insect, and then, after examination,
put it by. Or, summoning one of the men at some
period of leisure, — Corporal Robert Sutton, for instance,
whose iron memory held all the details of a song as if
it were a ford or a forest, — I have completed the new
specimen by supplying the absent parts. The music I
could only retain by ear, and though the more common
strains were repeated often enough to fix their impres-
sion, there were others that occurred only once or twice.

The words will be here given, as nearly as possible, in
the original dialect ; and if the spelling seems sometimes
inconsistent, or the misspelling insufficient, it is because
I could get no nearer. I wished to avoid what seems to
me the only error of Lowell's " Biglow Papers " in re-
spect to dialect, — the occasional use of an extreme mis-
spelling, which merely confuses the eye, without taking
us any closer to the peculiarity of sound.

The favorite song in camp was the following, — sung
with no accompaniment but the measured clapping of
hands and the clatter of many feet. It was sung per-
haps twice as often as any other. This was partly due
to the fact that it properly consisted of a chorus alone,
with which the verses of other songs might be combined
at random.

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

199

L HOLD YOUE LIGHT.

44 Hold your light. Brudder Robert, —
Hold your light,
Hold your light ou Canaan's shore.

" What make ole Satan for follow me so ?
Satan ain't got notin' for do wid me.

Hold your light,

Hold your light,
Hold your light on Canaan's shore."

This would be sung for half an hour at a time, perhaps
each person present being named in turn. It seemed
the simplest primitive type of ,; spiritual." The next in
popularity was almost as elementary, and, like this,
named successively each one of the circle. It was, how-
ever, much more resounding and convivial in its music

H. BOUND TO GO.

44 Jordan River, I 'm bound to go,
Bound to go, bound to go, —
Jordan River, I 'm bound to go,
And bid 'em fare ye well.

44 My Brudder Robert, I 'm bound to go,
Bound to go.*' &c.

44 My Sister Lucy. I 'm bound to £0,
Bound to go," &c.

Sometimes it was u tink 'em " (think them) u fare ye
welL" The ye was so detached that I thought at first
it was u very " or u vary well."

Another picturesque song, which seemed immensely
popular, was at first very bewildering to me. I could
not make out the first words of the chorus, and
called it the M Romandar," being reminded of some Ro-

200

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

maic song which I had formerly heard. That association
quite fell in with the Orientalism of the new tent-life.

III. BOOM IN THERE.

u 0, my mudder is gone ! my mudder is gone !
My mudder is gone into heaven, my Lord !

I canTt stay behind !
Dere 's room in dar, room in dar,
Room in dar, in de heaven, my Lord!

I canrt stay behind I
Can't stay behind, my dear,

I can't stay behind I

" 0, my fader is gone ! " &c.

" 0, de angels are gone! " &c.

w 0, 1 'se been on de road ! I 'se been on de road!
I 'se been on de road into heaven, my Lord !

I can't stay behind !
0, room in dar, room in dar,
Room in dar, in de heaven, my Lord!

I can't stay behind! "

By this time every man within hearing, from oldest to
youngest, would be wriggling and shuffling, as if through
some magic piper's bewitchment ; for even those who at
first affected contemptuous indifference would be drawn
into the vortex erelong.

Next to these in popularity ranked a class of songs be*
longing emphatically to the Church Militant, and avail-
able for camp purposes with very little strain upon their
symbolism. This, for instance, had a true companion-
in-arms heartiness about it, not impaired by the feminine
invocation at the end.

IV. HAIL MARY.

44 One more valiant soldier here,
One more valiant soldier here,

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

201

One more valiant soldier here,

To help me bear de cross.
Ohail, Mary, hail!

Hail, Mary, hail!
Hail, Mary, hail!

To help me bear de cross."

I fancied that the original reading might have been
" soul," instead of " soldier," — with some other syllable
inserted to fill out the metre, — and that the " Hail,
Mary," might denote a Roman Catholic origin, as I had
several men from St. Augustine who held in a dim way
to that faith. It was a very ringing song, though not so
grandly jubilant as the next, which was really impres-
sive as the singers pealed it out, when marching or row-
ing or embarking.

V. MY AEMY CROSS OYER.

u My army cross over,
My army cross over,
0, Pharaoh's army drownded !
My army cross over.

u We '11 cross de mighty river,

My army cross over;
We "11 cross de river Jordan,

My army cross over;
"We '11 cross de danger water,

My army cross over;
We '11 cross de mighty Myo,

My army cross over. ( Thrice.)

0, Pharaoh's army drownded!

My army cross over."

I could get no explanation of the " mighty Myo," ex-
cept that one of the old men thought it meant the river
of death. Perhaps it is an African word. In the Cam-
eroon dialect, " Mawa 99 signifies " to die."
9 *

202

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

The next also has a- military ring about it, and the
first line is well matched by the music. The rest is con-
glomerate, and one or two lines show a more Northern
origin. " Done " is a Virginia shibboleth, quite distinct
from the " been " which replaces it in South Carolina.
Yet one of their best choruses, without any fixed words,
was, " De bell done ringing," for which, in proper South
Carolina dialect, would have been substituted, " De bell
been a-ring." This refrain may have gone South with
our army.

VI. HIDE IN, KIND SAVIOUR.

" Ride in, kind Saviour!

No man can hinder me.
O, Jesus is a mighty man !

No man, &c.
We 're marching through Virginny fields.

No man, &c.
0, Satan is a busy man,

No man, &c.
And he has his sword and shield,

No man, &c.
0, old Secesh done come and gone !

No man can hinder me."

Sometimes they substituted " hinder we" which was
more spicy to the ear, and more in keeping with the
usual head-over-heels arrangement of their pronouns.

Almost all their songs were thoroughly religious in
their tone, however quaint their expression, and were in
ajninor key, both as to words and music. The attitude
is always the same, and, as a commentary on the life of
the race, is infinitely pathetic. Nothing but patience for
this life, — nothing but triumph in the next. Sometimes
the present predominates, sometimes the future ; but the
combination is always implied. In the following, for in-
stance, we hear simply the patience.

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

203

TIL THIS WORLD ALMOST DOXE.

" Brudder, keep your lamp trimmin' and a-burnin',
Keep your lamp trimmin1 and a-burnin',
Keep your lamp trimmin' and a-burnin',

For dis world most done.
So keep your lamp, <£:c.

Dis world most done."

But in the next, the final reward of patience is pro-
claimed as plaintively.

Vm. I WANT TO GO HOME.

w Dere 's no rain to wet you,

0, yes, I want to go liome.
Dere 's no sun to burn you,

0. yes. I want to go home;
0, push along, believers,

0, yes, &c.
Dere 's no hard trials,

0, yes, &c.
Dere 's no whips a-crackin',

0, yes. &c.
My brudder on de wayside,

0, yes, &c.
0, push along, my brudder,

0, yes, &c.
Where dere 's no stormy weather,

0, yes, &c.
Dere 's no tribulation,

0, yes, &c.

This next was a boat-song, and timed well with the
tug of the oar.

IX. THE COMING DAY.

" I want to go to Canaan,
I want to go to Canaan,
I want to go to Canaan,

To meet 'em at de comin' day.

204

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

0, remember, let me go to Canaan, f Thrice.)

To meet 'em, &c.
0 brudder, let me go to Canaan, ( Thrice.)

To meet 'em, &c.
My brudder, you — oh ! — remember, ( TJirice.)

To meet 'em at de comin' day."

The following begins with a startling affirmation, yet
the last line quite outdoes the first. This, too, was a
capital boat-song.

X. ONE MOKE EIVER.

" 0, Jordan bank was a great old bank,

Dere ain't but one more river to cross.
We have some valiant soldier here,

Dere ain't, &c.
0, Jordan stream will never run dry,

Dere ain't, &c.
Dere 's a hill on my leff, and he catch on my right,

Dere ain't but one more river to cross."

I could get no explanation of this last riddle, except,
" Dat mean, if you go on de lefF, go to 'struction, and if
you go on de right, go to God, for sure."

In others, more of spiritual conflict is implied, as in this
next.

XI. 0 THE DYING LAMB !

" I wants to go where Moses trod,

0 de dying Lamb !
For Moses gone to de promised land,

0 de dying Lamb !
To drink from springs dat never run dry,

0, &c.
Cry 0 my Lord !

0, &c.

Before I '11 stay in hell one day,
0, &c.

I 'm in hopes to pray my sins away,
0, &c.

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

205

Ciy 0 my Lord !
0. &c.

Bradder Moses promised for be dar too,
0?&c.

To drink from streams dat never ran dry,
0 de dying Lamb ! n

In the next, the conflict is at its height, and the lurid
imagery of the Apocalypse is brought to bear. Tins
book, with the books of Moses, constituted their Bible ;
all that lay between, even the narratives of the life of
Jesus, they hardly cared to read or to hear.

XII. POWll IN THE VALLEY.

" We '11 run and never tire,
We '11 ran and never tire,
We '11 ran and never tire,

Jesus set poor sinners free.
Way down in de valley,

Who will rise and go with me?
You 've heern talk of Jesus,

Who set poor sinners free.

" De lightnin' and de flashin'
De lightnin' and de flashin',
De lightnin' and de flashin',
Jesus set poor sinners free.
I can't stand the fire. (' Tfirice.)

Jesus set poor sinners free.
De green trees a-flamin'. ( Thrice.)
Jesus set poor sinners free,
Way down in de valley,

Who will rise and go with me ?
You 've heern talk of Jesus
Who set poor sinners free."

" De valley " and 4< de lonesome valley " were familiar
words in their religious experience. To descend into
that region implied the same process with the u anxious-
seat " of the camp-meeting. When a young girl was
supposed to enter it, she bound a handkerchief by a pe-

206

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

culiar knot over her head, and made it a point of honor
not to change a single garment* till the day of her bap-
tism, so that she was sure of being in physical readiness
for the cleansing rite, whatever her spiritual mood might
be. More than once, in noticing a damsel thus mysti-
cally kerchiefed, I have asked some dusky attendant its
meaning, and have received the unfailing answer, —
framed with their usual indifference to the genders of
pronouns, — " He in de lonesome valley, sa."

The next gives the same dramatic conflict, while its
detached and impersonal refrain gives it strikingly the
character of the Scotch and Scandinavian ballads.

XIII. CRY HOLY.

" Cry holy, holy!

Look at de people dat is born of God.
And I run down de valley, and I run down to pray,

Says, look at de people dat is born of God.
When I get dar, Cappen Satan was dar,

Says, look at, &c.
Says, young man, young man, dere 's no use for pray,

Says, look at, &c.
For Jesus is dead, and God gone away,

Says, look at, &c.
And I made him out a liar, and I went my way,

Says, look at, &c.
Sing holy, holy!

" 0, Mary was a woman, and he had a one Son,
Says, look at, &c.
And de Jews and de Romans had him hung,
Says, look at, &c.
Cry holy, holy !

" And I tell you, sinner, you had better had pray,
Says, look at, &c.
For hell is a dark and dismal place,

Says, look at, &c.
And I tell you, sinner, and I would n't go dar!
Says, look at, &c.
Cry holy, holy! "

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

207

Here is an infinitely quaint description of the length
of the heavenly road : —

XIV. o'er THE CEOSSING.

M Yonder 's my old mudder,

Been a-waggin1 at de hill so long.
It 's about time she '11 cross over;

Get home bimeby.
Keep pray in', I do believe

We 're a long time waggin' o'er de crossin'.
Keep prayin', I do believe

We '11 get home to heaven bimeby.

11 Hear dat mournful thunder

Roll from door to door,
Calling home God's children;

Get home bimeby.
Little chil'en, I do believe

We 're a long time, &c.
Little chil'en, I do believe

We '11 get home, &c.

" See dat forked lightnin'

Flash from tree to tree,
Callin' home God's chil'en;

Get home bimeby.
True believer, I do believe

We 're a long time, &c.
0 brudders, I do believe,

We '11 get home to heaven bimeby."

One of the most singular pictures of future joys, and
with a fine flavor of hospitality about it, was this : —

XV. WALK JEM EASY.

11 0, walk 'em easy round de heaven,
Walk 'em easy round de heaven,
Walk 'em easy round de heaven,

Dat all de people may join de band.
Walk 'em easy round de heaven. ( Thrice.)

0, shout glory till 'em join dat band! **

208

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

The chorus was usually the greater part of the song,
and often came in paradoxically, thus : —

XYI. 0 YES, LOKD.

" 0, must I be like de foolish mans ?

0 yes, Lord !
Will build de house on de sandy hill.

0 yes, Lord !
I '11 build my house on Zion hill,

0 yes, Lord !
No wind nor rain can blow me down,

0 yes, Lord! "

The next is very graceful and lyrical, and with more
variety of rhythm than usual : —

XVII. BOW LOW, MARY.

" Bow low, Mary, bow low, Martha,

For Jesus come and lock de door,

And carry de keys away.
Sail, sail, over yonder,
And view de promised land.

For Jesus come, &c.
Weep, 0 Mary, bow low, Martha,

For Jesus come, &c.
Sail, sail, my true believer;
Sail, sail, over yonder;
Mary, bow low, Martha, bow low,

For Jesus come and lock de door

And carry de keys away."

But of all the " spirituals " that which surprised me
the most, I think, — perhaps because it was that in which
external nature furnished the images most directly, —
was this. With all my experience of their ideal ways
of speech, I was startled when first I came on such a
flower of poetry in that dark soil.

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

209

XVIIL I KWOW MOON-RISE.

" I know moon-rise, I know star-rise,

Lay dis body down.
I walk in de moonlight, I walk in de starlight,

To lay dis body down.
I Tll walk in de graveyard, I *11 walk through de graveyard,

To lay dis body down.
I ?I1 lie in de grave and stretch out my arms ;

Lay dis body down.
I go to de judgment in de evenin' of de day,

When I lay dis body down;
And my soul and your soul will meet in de day

"When I lay dis body down."

u ITI lie in de grave and stretch out m y arms." Never,
it seems io me, since man first lived and suffered, was
his infinite longing for peace uttered more plaintively
than in that line.

The next is one of the wildest and most striking of
the whole series : there is a mystical effect and a passion-
ate striving throughout the whole. The Scriptural strug-
gle between Jacob and the angel, which is only dimly
expressed in the words, seems all uttered in the music.
I think it impressed my imagination more powerfully
than any other of these songs.

XIX. WEESTLIXG JACOB.

■ 0 wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob, day 's a-breakin';
I will not let thee go !

0 wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob, day ?s a-breakin' ;

He will not let me go !
0, I hold my brudder wid a tremblin' hand;
I would not let him go !

1 hold my sister wid a tremblin* hand;

I would not let her go !

" 0, Jacob do hang from a tremblin' limb,
He would not let him go !

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NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

0, Jacob do hang from a tremblin' limb ;

Dp, Lord will bless my soul.
0 wrestlin' Jacob, Jacob," &c.

Of " occasional hymns," properly so called, I noticed
but one, a funeral hymn for an infant, which is sung
plaintively over and over, without variety of words.

XX. THE BABY GONE HOME.

" De little baby gone home,
De little baby gone home,
De little baby gone along,

For to climb up Jacob's ladder.
And I wish I 'd been dar,
I wish I 'd been dar,
I wish I 'd been dar, my Lord,

For to climb up Jacob's ladder."

Still simpler is this, which is yet quite sweet and
touching.

XXI. JESUS WITH US.

" He have been wid us, Jesus,
He still wid us, Jesus,
He will be wid us, Jesus,
Be wid us to the end."

The next seemed to be a favorite about Christmas
time, when meditations on " de rollin' year" were fre-
quent among them.

XXII. LORD, REMEMBER ME.

" 0 do, Lord, remember me !
0 do, Lord, remember me !
0, do remember me, until de year roll round !
Do, Lord, remember me !

" If you want to die like Jesus died,
Lay in de grave,
You would fold your arms and close your eyes
And die wid a free good will.

XEGRO SPIRITUALS.

211

" For Death is a simple ting,
And he go from door to door,
And he knock down some, and he, cripple up some,
And he leave some here to pray.

u 0 do, Lord, remember me !
0 do, Lord, remember me !
My old fader *s gone till de year roll round;
Do, Lord, remember me ! "

The next was sung in such an operatic and rollicking
way that it was quite hard to fancy it a religious per-
formance, which, however, it was. I heard it but once.

XXIII. EARLY IX THE MORNING.

" I meet little Rosa early in de momin',
0 Jerusalem ! early in de morn in* ;
And I ax her, How you do, my darter?
0 Jerusalem ! early in de mornin'.

"I meet my mudder early in de mornin',
0 Jerusalem ! &c.
And I ax her, How you do, my mudder ?
0 Jerusalem ! &c.

u I meet Brudder Robert early in de mornin',
0 Jerusalem ! &c.
And I ax him, How you do, my sonny?
0 Jerusalem ! &c.

" I meet Tittawisa early in de mornin',
0 Jerusalem ! &c.
And I ax her, How you do, my darter ?
0 Jerusalem! " &c.

"Tittawisa" means " Sister Louisa." In songs of this
class the name of every person present successively
appears.

Their best marching song, and one which was invalu-
able to lift their feet along, as they expressed it, was the
following. There was a kind of spring and lilt to it,
quite indescribable by words.

212

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

XXIV. GO IN THE WILDERNESS.

" Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness,

Go in de wilderness, go in de wilderness,
Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness

To wait upon de Lord.
Go wait upon de Lord,
Go wait upon de Lord,
Go wait upon de Lord, my God,

He take away de sins of de world.

" Jesus a-waitin'. Go in de wilderness,
Go, &c.

All dem chil'en go in de wilderness
To wait upon de Lord."

The next was one of those which I had heard in boy-
ish days, brought North from Charleston. But the chorus
alone was identical ; the words were mainly different, and

-

those here given are quaint enough.

XXV. BLOW YOUR TRUMPET, GABRIEL.

" 0, blow your trumpet, Gabriel,
Blow your trumpet louder;
And I want dat trumpet to blow me home
To my new Jerusalem. '

.

" De prettiest ting dat ever I done
Was to serve de Lord when I was young.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c.

" 0, Satan is a liar, and he conjure too,
And if you don't mind, he '11 conjure you.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c.

" 0, 1 was lost in de wilderness,
King Jesus hand me de candle down.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel," &c.

The following contains one of those odd transforma-
tions of proper names with which their Scriptural cita-

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

213

tions were often enriched. It rivals their text, " Paul
may plant, and may polish wid water," which I have
elsewhere quoted, and in which the sainted Apollos would
hardly have recognized himself.

XXVI. IX THE MORXIXG.

" In de mornin',
In de mornin',
Chil'en? Yes, my Lord!

Don't yon hear de trumpet sound?
If I had a-died when I was young,
I never would had de race for run.

Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

u 0 Sam and Peter was fishin1 in de sea,
And dey drop de net and follow my Lord.
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

" Dere 's a silver spade for to dig my grave
And a golden chain for to let me down.

Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
In de mora in',
In de mornin',
Chil'en? Yes, my Lord!

Don't you hear de trumpet sound? n

These golden and silver fancies remind one of the
King of Spain's daughter in u Mother Goose," and the
golden apple, and the silver pear, which are doubtless
themselves but the vestiges of some simple early compo-
sition like this. The next has a humbler and more
domestic style of fancy.

XXVII. FARE YE WELL.

" My true believers, fare ye well,
Fare ye well, fare ye well,
Fare ye well, by de grace of God,
For I 'm going home.

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NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

Massa Jesus give me a little broom
For to sweep my heart clean,
And I will try, by de grace of God,
To win my way home."

Among the songs not available for marching, but re-
quiring the concentrated enthusiasm of the camp, was
" The Ship of Zion," of which they had three wholly
distinct versions, all quite exuberant and tumultuous.

XXVIII. THE SHIP OF ZION.

" Come along, come along,

And let us go home,
0, glory, hallelujah?
Dis de ole ship o' Zion,

Halleloo! Halleloo!
Dis de ole ship o1 Zion,

Hallelujah!

" She has landed many a tousand,
She can land as many more.
0, glory, hallelujah! &c.

" Do you tink she will be able
For to take us all home ?
0, glory, hallelujah! &c.

" You can tell 'em I 'm a comin',
Halleloo! Halleloo!
You can tell 'em I 'm a comin',

Hallelujah!
Come along, come along," &c.

xxix. the ship of zion. (Second version.)

" Dis de good ole ship o' Zion,
Dis de good ole ship o' Zion,
Dis de good ole ship o1 Zion,

And she 's makin' for de Promise Land.
She hab angels for de sailors, ( Thrice.)

And she 's, &c.
And how you know dey's angels? (Thrice.)
And she 's, &c.

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

215

Good Lord, shall I be one? (Thrice.)
And she 's, &c.

" Dat ship is out a-sailin', sailin', sailin',

And she 's, &c.
She 's a-sailin' mighty steady, steady, steady,

And she 's, &c.
She '11 neither reel nor totter, totter, totter,

And she 's, &c.
She 's a-sailin' away cold Jordan, Jordan, Jordan,

And she 's, &c.
King Jesus is de captain, captain, captain,

And she 's makin' for de Promise Land."

XXX. THE ship of zion. ( Third version.)

'* De Gospel ship is sailin',

Hosann — sann.
0, Jesus is de captain,

Hosann — sann.
De angels are de sailors,

Hosann — sann.
0, is your bundle ready ?

Hosann — sann.
0, have you got your ticket?

Hosann — sann."

This abbreviated chorus is given with unspeakable
unction.

The three just given are modifications of an old camp-
meeting melody ; and the same may be true of the three
following, although I cannot find them in the Methodist
hymn-books. Each, however, has its characteristic modi-
fications, which make it well worth giving. Ia the sec-
ond verse of this next, for instance, " Saviour " evidently
has become " soldier."

XXXI. SWEET MUSIC.

M Sweet music in heaven,
Just beginning for to roll.
Don't you love God?
Glory, hallelujah!

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

" Yes, late I heard my soldier say,
Come, heavy soul, I am de way.
Don't you love God?
Glory, hallelujah!

" I '11 go and tell to sinners round
What a kind Saviour I have found.
Don't you love God?
Glory, hallelujah!

w My grief my burden long has been,
Because I was not cease from sin.
Don't you love God?
Glory, hallelujah!"

XXXII. GOOD NEWS.

" 0, good news ! 0, good news !
De angels brought de tidings down,
Just comin' from de trone.

" As grief from out my soul shall fly,
Just comin' from de trone ;
I '11 shout salvation when I die,
Good news, 0, good news!
Just comin' from de trone.

" Lord, I want to go to heaven when I die,
Good news, 0, good news! &c.

" De white folks call us a noisy crew,
Good news, 0, good news!
But dis I know, we are happy too,
Just comin' from de trone."

XXXIII. THE HEAVENLY ROAD.

You may talk of my name as much as you please

And carry my name abroad,
But I really do believe I 'm a child of God

As I walk in de heavenly road.
0, won't you go wid me? ( Thrice.)

For to keep our garments clean.

0 Satan is a mighty busy ole man,
And roll rocks in my way;

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

217

But Jesus is my bosom friend,

And roll 'em out of de way.
0, won't you go wid me? ( TJirice.)

For to keep our garments clean.

" Come, my brudder, if you never did pray,
I hope you may pray to-night ;
For I really believe I 'm a child of God

As I walk in de heavenly road.
0, won't you," &c.

Some of the songs had played an historic part during
the war. For singing the next, for instance, the negroes
had been put in jail in Georgetown, S. C, at the outbreak
of the Rebellion. " TTe '11 soon be free " was too dan-
gerous an assertion ; and though the chant was an old
one, it was no doubt sung with redoubled emphasis dur-
ing the new events. a De Lord will call us home," was
evidently thought to be a symbolical verse ; for, as a little
drummer-boy explained to me, showing all his white
teeth as he sat in the moonlight by the door of my tent,
" Dey tink de Lord mean for say de Yankees"

XXXIY. WE 'LL SOOX BE FREE.

" We '11 soon be free,
We '11 soon be free,
We '11 soon be free,

When de Lord will call us home.
My brudder, how long,
My brudder, how long,
My brudder, how long,

'Fore we done sufferin' here ?
It won't be long (Thrice.)

*Fore de Lord will call us home.
We "11 walk de miry road ( Thrice.)

Where pleasure never dies.
We rll walk de golden street (Thrice.)

Where pleasure never dies.
My brudder, how long ( Thrice.)

Tore we done sufferin' here?
10

218

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

We '11 soon be free ( Thrice*)

When Jesus sets me free.
We '11 fight for liberty ( Thrice.)

When de Lord will call us home."

The suspicion in this case was unfounded, but they had
another song to which the Rebellion had actually given
rise. This was composed by nobody knew whom, —
though it was the most recent, doubtless, of all these
" spirituals," — and had been sung in secret to avoid
detection. It is certainly plaintive enough. The peck
of corn and pint of salt were slavery's rations.

XXXV. MANY THOUSAND GO.

" No more peck o' corn for me,
No more, no more, —
No more peck o' corn for me,
Many tousand go.

" No more driver's lash for me, ( Twice.)
No more, &c.

" No more pint o' salt for me, ( Twice.)
No more, &c.

" No more hundred lash for me, ( Twice.)
No more, &c.

" No more mistress' call for me,
No more, no more, —
No more mistress' call for me,
Many tousand go."

Even of this last composition, however, we have only
the approximate date and know nothing of the mode of
composition. Allan Ramsay says of the Scotch songs,
that, no matter who made them, they were soon attributed
to the minister of the parish whence they sprang. And
I always wondered, about these, whether they had always

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

219

a conscious and definite origin in some leading mind, or
whether they grew by gradual accretion, in an almost
unconscious way. On this point I could get no informa-
tion, though I asked many questions, until at last, one
day when I was being rowed across from Beaufort to
Ladies' Island, I found myself, with delight, on the actual
trail of a song. One of the oarsmen, a brisk young fel-
low, not a soldier, on being asked for his theory of the
matter, dropped out a coy confession. " Some good
sperituals," he said, " are start jess out o' curiosity. I
been a-raise a sing, myself, once."

My dream was fulfilled, and I had traced out, not the
poem alone, but the poet. I implored him to proceed.

tt Once we boys," he said, " went for tote some rice
and de nigger-driver he keep a-callin' on us ; and I say,
4 O, de ole nigger-driver ! ' Den anudder said, mt Fust
ting my mammy tole me was, notin' so bad as nigger-
driver.' Den I made a sing, just puttin' a word, and den
anudder word."

Then he began singing, and the men, after listening a
moment, joined in the chorus, as if it were an old acquaint-
ance, though they evidently had never heard it before.
I saw how easily a new " sing " took root among them.

XXXVI. THE DRIVER.

" 0, de ole nigger-driver !

0, gwine away !
Fust ting my mammy tell me,

0, gwine away!
Tell me 'bout de nigger-driver,

0, gwine away !
Nigger-driver second devil,

0, gwine away !
Best ting for do he driver,

0, gwine away!
Knock he down and spoil he labor,

0, gwine away! "

220

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

It will be observed that, although this song is quite
secular in its character, yet its author called it a " spir-
itual." I heard but two songs among them, at any time,
to which they would not, perhaps, have given this gen-
eric name. One of these consisted simply in the endless
repetition — after the manner of certain college songs —
of the mysterious line, —

" Rain fall and wet Becky Lawton."

But who Becky Lawton was, and why she should or
should not be wet, and whether the dryness was a
reward or a penalty, none could say. I got the im-
pression that, in either case, the event was posthumous,
and that there was some tradition of grass not growing
over the grave of a sinner; but even this was vague,
and all else vaguer.

The other song I heard but once, on a morning when
a squad of men came in from picket duty, and chanted
it in the most rousing way. It had been a stormy and
comfortless night, and the picket station was very ex-
posed. It still rained in the morning when I strolled
to the edge of the camp, looking out for the men, and
wondering how they had stood it. Presently they came
striding along the road, at a great pace, with their shining
rubber blankets worn as cloaks around them, the rain
streaming from these and from their equally shining
faces, which were almost all upon the broad grin, as they
pealed out this remarkable ditty : —

HANGMAN JOHNNY.

" 0, dey call me Hangman Johnny !
0, ho! 0, ho!
But I never hang nobody,
0, hang, boys, hang !

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

221

O, dey call me Hangman Johnny !

6, ho! 0, ho!
But we '11 all hang togedder,

0, hang, boys, hang! "

My presence apparently cheeked the performance of
another verse, beginning, " De buckra 'list for money," ap-
parently in reference to the controversy about the pay-
question, then just beginning, and to the more mercenary
aims they attributed to the white soldiers. But u Hang-
man Johnny " remained always a myth as inscrutable as
u Becky Lawton."

As they learned all their songs by ear, they often
strayed into wholly new versions, which sometimes be-
came popular, and entirely banished the others. This
was amusingly the case, for instance, with one phrase in
the popular camp-song of u Marching Along." which was
entirely new to them until our quartermaster taught it to
them, at my request. The words, " Gird on the armor,"
were to them a stumbling-block, and no wonder, until
some ingenious ear substituted, " Guide on de army,"
which was at once accepted, and became universal.

" We '11 guide on de army, and be marching along "

is now the established version on the Sea Islands.

These quaint religious songs were to the men more
than a source of relaxation ; they were a stimulus to
courage and a tie to heaven. I never overheard in camp
a profane or vulgar song. 'With the trifling exceptions
given, all had a religious motive, while the most secular
melody could not have been more exciting. A few
youths from Savannah, who were comparatively men of
the world, had learned some of the " Ethiopian Min-
strel " ditties, imported from the North. These took no

222

NEGRO SPIRITUALS.

hold upon the mass ; and, on the other hand, they sang
reluctantly, even on Sunday, the long and short metres
of the hymn-books, always gladly yielding to the more
potent excitement of their own " spirituals." By these
they could sing themselves, as had their fathers before
them, out of the contemplation of their own low estate,
into the sublime scenery of the Apocalypse. I remem-
ber that this minor-keyed pathos used to seem to me
almost too sad to dwell upon, while slavery seemed
destined to last for generations ; but now that their pa-
tience has had its perfect work, history cannot afford to
lose this portion of its record. There is no parallel in-
stance of an oppressed race thus sustained by the relig-
ious sentiment alone. These songs are but the vocal
expression of the simplicity of their faith and the sub-
limity of their long resignation.

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

223

CHAPTER X.
LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

THE Edisto expedition cost me the health and strength
of several years. I could say, long after, in the!
words of one of the men, " I 'se been a sickly person,
eber since de expeditious." Justice to a strong con-
stitution and good habits compels me, however, to say
that, up to the time of my injury, I was almost the only
officer in the regiment who had not once been off duty
from illness. But at last I had to yield, and went North
for a month.

We heard much said, during the war, of wounded
officers who stayed unreasonably long at home. I think
there were more instances of those who went back too
soon. Such at least was my case. On returning to the
regiment I found a great accumulation of unfinished
business ; every member of the field and staff was pros-
trated by illness or absent on detailed service ; two com-
panies had been sent to Hilton Head on fatigue duty,
and kept there unexpectedly long : and there was a
visible demoralization among the rest, especially from
the fact that their pay had just been cut down, in viola-
tion of the express pledges of the government. A few
weeks of steady sway made all right again ; and during
those weeks I felt a perfect exhilaration of health, fol-
lowed by a month or two of complete prostration, when
the work was done. This passing, I returned to duty,
buoyed up by the fallacious hope that the winter months
would set me right again.

224 LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

We had a new camp on Port Royal Island, very
pleasantly situated, just out of Beaufort. It stretched
nearly to the edge of a shelving bluff, fringed with
pines and overlooking the river ; below the bluff was
a hard, narrow beach, where one might gallop a mile
and bathe at the farther end. We could look up
and down the curving stream, and watch the few ves-
sels that came and went. Our first encampment had
been lower down that same river, and we felt at
home.

The new camp was named Camp Shaw, in honor of
the noble young officer who had lately fallen at Fort
Wagner, under circumstances which had endeared him
to all the men. As it happened, they had never seen
him, nor was my regiment ever placed within immediate
reach of the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts. This I always
regretted, feeling very desirous to compare the military
qualities of the Northern and Southern blacks. As it
was, the Southern regiments with which the Massachu-
setts troops were brigaded were hardly a fair specimen
of their kind, having been raised chiefly by drafting, and,
for this and other causes, being afflicted with perpetual
discontent and desertion.

We had, of course, looked forward with great interest
to the arrival of these new colored regiments, and I had
ridden in from the picket-station to see the Fifty-Fourth.
Apart from the peculiarity of its material, it was fresh
from my own State, and I had relatives and acquaint-
ances among its officers. Governor Andrew, who had
formed it, was an old friend, and had begged me, on de-
parture from Massachusetts, to keep him informed as to
our experiment. I had good reason to believe that my
reports had helped to prepare the way for this new bat-

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW

225

talion, and I had sent him, at his request, some hints as
to its formation.*

In the streets of Beaufort I had met Colonel Shaw,
riding with his lieutenant-colonel and successor, Edward
Hallowell, and had gone back with them to share their
first meal in camp, I should have known Shaw any-
where by his resemblance to his kindred, nor did it take
long to perceive that he shared their habitual truthful-
ness and courage. Moreover, he and Hallowell had
already got beyond the commonplaces of inexperience,
in regard to colored troops, and, for a wonder, asked only
sensible questions. For instance, he admitted the mere
matter of courage to be settled, as regarded the colored

* Commonwealth of Massachusetts,
Executive Department.

Boston, February 5, 1863.
To Col. T. W. Higgixson, Commanding 1st Regt. S. C. Vols.,
Port Royal Id., S. C.

Colonel, — I am under obligations to you for your very interest-
ing letter of January 19th, which I considered to be too important in
its testimony to the efficiency of colored troops to be allowed to re-
main hidden on my files. I therefore placed some portions of it in
the hands of Hon. Stephen M. Weld, of Jamaica Plain, for publica-
tion, and you will find enclosed the newspaper slip from the " Jour-
nal " of February 3d, in which it appeared. During a recent visit at
Washington I have obtained permission from the Department of "War
to enlist colored troops as part of the Massachusetts quota, and I am
about to begin to organize a colored infantry regiment, to be numbered
the " 54th Massachusetts Volunteers."

I shall be greatly obliged by any suggestions which your experience
may afford concerning it, and I am determined that it shall serve as a
model, in the high character of its officers and the thorough discipline
of its men, for all subsequent corps of the like material.

Please present to General Saxton the assurances of my respectful
regard.

I have the honor to be, respectfully and obediently yours,

JOHN A. ANDREW,
Governor of Massachusetts.
10* O

226

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

troops, and his whole solicitude bore on this point, —
Would they do as well in line-of-battle as they had
already done in more irregular service, and on picket
and guard duty ? Of this I had, of course, no doubt,
nor, I think, had he ; though I remember his saying some-
thing about the possibility of putting them between two
fires in case of need, and so cutting off their retreat. I
should never have thought of such a project, but I could
not have expected him to trust them as I did, until he
had been actually under fire with them. That, doubtless,
removed all his anxieties, if he really had any.

This interview had occurred on the 4th of June.
Shaw and his regiment had very soon been ordered to
Georgia, then to Morris Island ; Fort Wagner had been
assaulted, and he had been killed. Most of the men
knew about the circumstances of his death, and many of
them had subscribed towards a monument for him, — a
project which originated with General Saxton, and which
was finally embodied in the " Shaw School-house " at
Charleston. So it gave us all pleasure to name this
camp for him, as its predecessor had been named for
General Saxton.

The new camp was soon brought into good order.
The men had great ingenuity in building screens and
shelters of light poles, filled in with the gray moss from
the live-oaks. The officers had vestibules built in this
way, before all their tents ; the cooking-places were
walled round in the same fashion ; and some of the wide
company-streets had sheltered sidewalks down the whole
line of tents. The sergeant on duty at the entrance of
the camp had a similar bower, and the architecture cul-
minated in a " Praise-House " for school and prayer-
meetings, some thirty feet in diameter. As for chimneys

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

227

and flooring, they were provided with that magic and
invisible facility which marks the second year of a regi-
ment's life.

That officer is happy who, besides a constitutional love
of adventure, has also a love for the details of camp life,
and likes to bring them to perfection. Nothing but a
hen with her chickens about her can symbolize the content
I felt on getting my scattered companies together, after
some temporary separation on picket or fatigue duty.
Then we went to work upon the nest. The only way to
keep a camp in order is to set about everything as if you
expected to stay there forever ; if you stay, you get the
comfort of it ; if ordered away in twenty-four hours,
you forget all wasted labor in the excitement of depar-
ture. Thus viewed, a camp is a sort of model farm or
bit of landscape gardening ; there is always some small
improvement to be made, a trench, a well, more shade
against the sun, an increased vigilance in sweeping.
Then it is pleasant to take care of the men, to see them
happy, to hear them purr.

Then the duties of inspection and drill, suspended
during active service, resume their importance with a
month or two of quiet. It really costs unceasing labor
to keep a regiment in perfect condition and ready for
service. The work is made up of minute and endless
details, like a bird's pruning her feathers or a cat's lick-
ing her kittens into their proper toilet. Here are
eight hundred men, every one of whom, every Sunday
morning at farthest, must be perfectly soigne in all per-
sonal proprieties ; he must exhibit himself provided with
every article of clothing, buttons, shoe-strings, hooks and
eyes, company letter, regimental number, rifle, bayonet,
bayonet-scabbard, cap-pouch, cartridge-box, cartridge-

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LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

box belt, cartridge-box belt-plate, gun-sling, canteen,
haversack, knapsack, packed according to rule, forty cart-
ridges, forty percussion caps ; and every one of these arti-
cles polished to the highest brightness or blackness as
the case may be, and moreover hung or slung or tied or
carried in precisely the correct manner.

What a vast and formidable housekeeping is here, my
patriotic sisters ! Consider, too, that every corner of
the camp is to be kept absolutely clean and ready for ex-
hibition at the shortest notice ; hospital, stables, guard-
house, cook-houses, company tents, must all be brought
to perfection, and every square inch of this " farm of
four acres " must look as smooth as an English lawn,
twice a day. All this, beside the discipline and the drill
and the regimental and company books, which must keep
rigid account of all these details ; consider all this, and
then wonder no more that officers and men rejoice in be-
ing ordered on active service, where a few strokes of the
pen will dispose of all this multiplicity of trappings as
" expended in action 99 or " lost in service."

For one, the longer I remained in service, the better I
appreciated the good sense of most of the regular army
niceties. True, these things must all vanish when the
time of action comes, but it is these things that have pre-
pared you for action. Of course, if you dwell on them
only, military life becomes millinery life alone. King-
lake says that the Russian Grand-Duke Constantine, con-
templating his beautiful toy-regiments, said that he
dreaded war, for he knew that it would spoil the troops.
The simple fact is, that a soldier is like the weapon he
carries ; service implies soiling, but you must have it
clean in advance, that when soiled it may be of some
use.

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

229

The men had that year a Christmas present which
they enjoyed to the utmost. — famishing the detail,
every other day. for provost-guard duty in Beaufort. It
was the only military service which they had ever shared
within the town, and it moreover gave a sense of self-
respect to be keeping the peace of their own streets. I
enjoyed seeing them put on duty those mornings : there
was such a twinkle of delight in their eyes, though their
features were immovable. As the " reliefs " went round,
posting the guard, under charge of a corporal, one could
watch the black sentinels successively dropped and the
whites picked up, — gradually changing the complexion,
like Lord Somebody's black stockings which became
white stockings. — till at last there was only a squad of
white soldiers obeying the i; Support Arms ! Forward,
March ! ° of a black corporal.

Then, when once posted, they glorified their office,
you may be sure. Discipline had grown rather free-
and-easy in the town about that time, and it is said
that the guard-house never was so full within human
memory as after their first tour of duty. I remem-
ber hearing that one young reprobate, son of a lead-
ing Northern philanthropist in those parts, was much ag-
grieved at being taken to the lock-up merely because he
was found drunk in the streets. " Why," said he, " the
white corporals always showed me the way home."
And I can testify that, after an evening party, some
weeks later, I heard with pleasure the officers asking
eagerly for the countersign. " Who has the counter-
sign ? " said they. " The darkeys are on guard to-night,
and we must look out for our lives." Even after a Christ-
mas party at General Saxton's, the guard at the door
very properly refused to let the ambulance be brought

230

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

round from the stable for the ladies because the driver
had not the countersign.

One of the sergeants of the guard, on one of these
occasions, made to one who questioned his authority an
answer that could hardly have been improved. The
questioner had just been arrested for some offence.

" Know what dat mean ? " said the indignant ser-
geant, pointing to the chevrons on his own sleeve.
" Dat mean Guv'ment" * Volumes could not have said
more, and the victim collapsed. The thing soon settled
itself, and nobody remembered to notice whether the face
beside the musket of a sentinel were white or black. It
meant Government, all the same.

The men were also indulged with several raids on the
main-land, under the direction of Captain J. E. Bryant,
of the Eighth Maine, the most experienced scout in that
region, who was endeavoring to raise by enlistment a
regiment of colored troops. On one occasion Captains
Whitney and Heasley, with their companies, penetrated
nearly to Pocataligo, capturing some pickets and bring-
ing away all the slaves of a plantation, — the latter
operation being entirely under the charge of Sergeant
Harry Williams (Co. K), without the presence of any
white man. The whole command was attacked on the
return by a rebel force, which turned out to be what was
called in those regions a " dog-company," consisting of
mounted riflemen with half a dozen trained bloodhounds.
The men met these dogs with their bayonets, killed four
or five of their old tormentors with great relish, and
brought away the carcass of one. I had the creature
skinned, and sent the skin to New York to be stuffed
and mounted, meaning to exhibit it at the Sanitary Com-
mission Fair in Boston; but it spoiled on the passage.

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

231

These quadruped allies were not originally intended as
" dogs of war," but simply to detect fugitive slaves, and
the men were delighted at this confirmation of their tales
of dog-companies, which some of the officers had always
disbelieved.

Captain Bryant, during his scouting adventures, had
learned to outwit these bloodhounds, and used his skill
in eluding escape, during another expedition of the same
kind. He was sent with Captain Metcalf's company far
up the Combahee River to cut the telegraphic wires and
intercept despatches. Our adventurous chaplain and a
telegraphic operator went with the party. They ascend-
ed the river, cut the wires, and read the despatches for
an hour or two. Unfortunately, the attached wire was
too conspicuously hung, and was seen by a passenger on
the railway train in passing. The train was stopped and
a swift stampede followed ; a squad of cavalry was sent
in pursuit, and our chaplain, with Lieutenant Osborn, of
Bryant's projected regiment, were captured ; also one
private, — the first of our men who had ever been taken
prisoners. In spite of an agreement at Washington to
the contrary, our chaplain was held as prisoner of war,
the only spiritual adviser in uniform, so far as I know,
who had that honor. I do not know but his reverence
would have agreed with Scott's pirate-lieutenant, that it
was better to live as plain Jack Bunce than die as Fred-
erick Altamont ; but I am very sure that he would
rather have been kept prisoner to the close of the war,
as a combatant, than have been released on parole as a
non-resistant.

After his return, I remember, he gave the most ani-
mated accounts of the whole adventure, of which he had
enjoyed every instant, from the first entrance on the

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LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

enemy's soil to the final capture. I suppose we should
all like to tap the telegraphic wires anywhere and read
our neighbor's messages, if we could only throw round
this process the dignity of a Sacred Cause. This was
what our good chaplain had done, with the same consci-
entious zest with which he had conducted his Sunday
foraging in Florida. But he told me that nothing so im-
pressed him on the whole trip as the sudden transforma-
tion in the black soldier who was taken prisoner with
him. The chaplain at once adopted the policy, natural
to him, of talking boldly and even defiantly to his cap-
tors, and commanding instead of beseeching. He pur-
sued the same policy always and gained by it, he thought.
But the negro adopted the diametrically opposite policy,
also congenial to his crushed race, — all the force seemed
to go out of him, and he surrendered himself like a tor-
toise to be kicked and trodden upon at their will. This
manly, well-trained soldier at once became a slave again,
asked no questions, and, if any were asked, made meek
and conciliatory answers. He did not know, nor did
any of us know, whether he would be treated as a pris-
oner of war, or shot, or sent to a rice-plantation. He
simply acted according to the traditions of his race, as
did the chaplain on his side. In the end the soldier's
cunning was vindicated by the result ; he escaped, and
rejoined us in six months, while the chaplain was impris-
oned for a year.

The men came back very much exhausted from this
expedition, and those who were in the chaplain's squad
narrowly escaped with their lives. One brave fellow
had actually not a morsel to eat for four days, and then
could keep nothing on his stomach for two days more, so
that his life was despaired of ; and yet he brought all his

LIFE AT CAMP SHAW.

233

equipments safe into camp. Some of these men had
led such wandering lives, in woods and swamps, that to
hunt them was like hunting, an otter ; shyness and con-
cealment had grown to be their second nature.

After these little episodes came two months of peace.
"We were clean, comfortable, quiet, and consequently dis-
contented. It was therefore with eagerness that we
listened to a rumor of a new Florida expedition, in which
we might possibly take a hand.

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FLORIDA AGAIN?

CHAPTER XL
FLORIDA AGAIN?

LET me revert once more to my diary, for a speci-
men of the sharp changes and sudden disappoint-
ments that may come to troops in service. But for a
case or two of varioloid in the regiment, we should have
taken part in the battle of Olustee, and should have had
(as was reported) the right of the line. At any rate
we should have shared the hard knocks and the glory,
which were distributed pretty freely to the colored troops
then and there. The diary will give, better than can
any continuous narrative, our ups and downs of expecta-
tion in those days.

" Camp Shaw, Beaufort, S. C.t
February 7, 1864.

" Great are the uncertainties of military orders ! Since
our recall from Jacksonville we have had no such sur-
prises as came to us on Wednesday night. It was our
third day of a new tour of duty at the picket station.
We had just got nicely settled, — men well tented, with
good floors, and in high spirits, officers at out-stations

all happy, Mrs. coming to stay with her husband,

we at head-quarters just in order, house cleaned, moss-
garlands up, camellias and jessamines in the tin wash-
basins, baby in bliss ; — our usual run of visitors had
just set in, two Beaufort captains and a surgeon had just
risen from a late dinner after a flag of truce, General
Saxton and his wife had driven away but an hour or two
before, we were all sitting about busy, with a great fire
blazing, Mrs. D. had just remarked triumphantly, ' Last

FLORIDA AGAIN f

235

time I had but a mouthful here, and now I shall be here
three weeks 5 — when —

" In dropped, like a bombshell, a despatch announcing
that we were to be relieved by the Eighth Maine, the
next morning, as General Gillmore had sent an order
that we should be ready for departure from Beaufort at
any moment.

" Conjectures, orders, packing, sending couriers to out-
stations, were the employments of the evening ; the men
received the news with cheers, and we all came in next
morning."

" February 11, 1864.

" For three days we have watched the river, and
every little steamboat that comes up for coal brings out
spy-glasses and conjectures, and 6 Dar 's de Fourf New
Hampshire,' — for when that comes, it is said, we go.
Meanwhile we hear stirring news from Florida, and the
men are very impatient to be off. It is remarkable how
much more thoroughly they look at things as soldiers
than last year, and how much less as home-bound men, —
the South-Carolinians, I mean, for of course the Florid-
ians would naturally wish to go to Florida.

" But in every way I see the gradual change in them,
sometimes with a sigh, as parents watch their children
growing up and miss the droll speeches and the confiding
ignorance of childhood. Sometimes it comes over me
with a pang that they are growing more like white men, —
less naive and less grotesque. Still, I think there is
enough of it to last, and that their joyous buoyancy, at
least, will hold out while life does.

u As for our destination, our greatest fear is of finding
ourselves posted at Hilton Head and going no farther.
As a dashing Irish officer remarked the other day, ' If

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FLORIDA AGAIN?

we are ordered away anywhere, I hope it will be either
to go to Florida or else stay here ! ' 99

" February 18, 1864.

" Sublime uncertainties again !

" After being ordered in from picket, under marching
orders ; after the subsequent ten days of uncertainty ;
after watching every steamboat that came up the river,
to see if the Fourth New Hampshire was on board, — at
last the regiment came.

" Then followed another break ; there was no transpor-
tation to take us. At last a boat was notified.

" Then General Saxton, as anxious to keep us as was
the regiment to go, played his last card in small-pox,
telegraphing to department head-quarters that we had it
dangerously in the regiment. (N. B. All varioloid, light
at that, and besides, we always have it.)

" Then the order came to leave behind the sick and
those who had been peculiarly exposed, and embark the
rest next day.

" Great was the jubilee ! The men were up, I verily
believe, by three in the morning, and by eight the whole
camp was demolished or put in wagons, and we were on
our way. The soldiers of the Fourth New Hampshire
swarmed in ; every board was swept away by them ;
there had been a time when colored boards (if I may
delicately so express myself) were repudiated by white
soldiers, but that epoch had long since passed. I gave
my new tent-frame, even the latch, to Colonel Bell ;
ditto Lieutenant-Colonel to Lieutenant- Colonel.

"Down we marched, the men singing 4 John Brown*
and 6 Marching Along ' and 6 Gwine in de Wilder-
ness ' ; women in tears and smiles lined the way. We
halted opposite the dear General's ; we cheered, he

FLORIDA AGAIN f

237

speeched, I speeched, we all embraced symbolically, and
cheered some more. Then we went to work at the
wharf ; vast wagon-loads of tents, rations, ordnance, and
what-not disappeared in the capacious maw of the
Delaware. In the midst of it all came ridinsr down
General Saxton with a despatch from Hilton Head: —

" 4 If you think the amount of small-pox in the First
South Carolina Volunteers sufficient, the order will be
countermanded.'

" 1 TThat shall I say ? ' quoth the guilty General, per-
ceiving how preposterously too late the negotiation was
reopened.

a 1 Say, sir ? ' quoth L 6 Say that we are on board
already and the small-pox left behind. Say we had only
thirteen cases, chiefly varioloid, and ten almost well.'

u Our blood was up with a tremendous morning's work
done, and, rather than turn back, we felt ready to hold
down Major-General Gillmore, commanding department,
and all his staff upon the wharf, and vaccinate them by
main force.

u So General Saxton rode away, and we worked away.
Just as the last wagon-load but one was being trans-
ferred to the omnivorous depths of the Delaware, —
which I should think would have been filled ten times
over with what we had put into it, — down rode the
General with a fiendish joy in his bright eyes and held
out a paper, — one of the familiar rescripts from head-
quarters.

u 1 The marching orders of the First South Carolina
Volunteers are hereby countermanded.'

" ; Major Trowbridge,' said I, ' will you give my com-
pliments to Lieutenant Hooper, somewhere in the hold
of that steamer, and direct him to set his men at work to

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FLORIDA AGAIN f

bring out every individual article which they have "car-
ried in.' And I sat down on a pile of boards.

" 6 You will return to your old camping-ground, Colo-
nel/ said the General, placidly. 6 Now/ he added, with
serene satisfaction, c we will have seme brigade drills ! '

" Brigade drills ! Since Mr. Pickwick, with his heart-
less tomato-sauce and warming-pans, there had been
nothing so aggravating as to try to solace us, who were
as good as on board ship and under way, — nay, in
imagination as far up the St. John's as Pilatka at
least, — with brigade drills ! It was very kind and flat-
tering in him to wish to keep us. But unhappily we
had made up our minds to go.

" Never did officer ride at the head of a battalion of
more wobegone, spiritless wretches than I led back from
Beaufort that day. < When I march down to de land-
ing' said one of the men afterwards, 6 my knapsack full
of feathers. Comin' back, he lead ! 9 And the lead,
instead of the feathers, rested on the heart of every
one.

" As if the disappointment itself were not sufficient,
we had to return to our pretty camp, accustomed to
its drawing-room order, and find it a desert. Every
board gone from the floors, the screens torn down from
the poles, all the little conveniences scattered, and, to
crown all, a cold breeze such as we had not known since
New- Year's Day blowing across the camp and flooding
everything with dust. I sincerely hope the regiment
would never behave after a defeat as they behaved then.
Every man seemed crushed, officers and soldiers alike ;
when they broke ranks, they went and lay down like
sheep where their tents used to be, or wandered discon-
solately about, looking for their stray belongings. The

FLORIDA AGAIN f

239

scene was so infinitely dolorous that it gradually put me
in the highest spirits ; the ludicrousness of the whole
affair was so complete, there was nothing to do but
laugh. The horrible dust blew till every officer had some
black spot on his nose which paralyzed pathos. Of
course the only way was to set them all at work as soon
as possible ; and work them we did, — I at the camp and
the Major at the wharf, — loading and unloading wagons
and just reversing all which the morning had done.

" The Xcw Hampshire men were very considerate, and
gave back most of what they had taken, though many of
our men were really too delicate or proud to ask or even
take what they had once given to soldiers or to the
colored people. I had no such delicacy about my tent-
frame, and by night things had resumed something of their
old aspect, and cheerfulness was in part restored. Yet
long after this I found one first sergeant absolutely in
tears, — a Florida man, most of whose kindred were up
the St. John's. It was very natural that the men from
that region should feel thus bitterly, but it shows how
much of the habit of soldiers they have all acquired,
that the South Carolina men, who were leaving the
neighborhood of their families for an indefinite time,
were just as eager to go, and not one deserted, though
they knew it for a week beforehand. No doubt my
precarious health makes it now easier for me personally
to remain here — easier on reflection at least — than
for the others. At the same time Florida is fascinating,
and offers not only adventure, but the command of a
brigade. Certainly at the last moment there was not a
sacrifice I would not have made rather than wrench my-
self and others away from the expedition. We are, of
course, thrown back into the old uncertainty, and if the

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FLORIDA AGAIN?

small-pox subsides (and it is really diminishing decided-
ly) we may yet come in at the wrong end of the Florida
affair."

" February 19.

" Not a bit of it ! This morning the General has rid-
den up radiant, has seen General Gillmore, who has de-
cided not to order us to Florida at all, nor withdraw any
of this garrison. Moreover, he says that all which is
intended in Florida is done, — that there will be no ad-
vance to Tallahassee, and General Seymour will establish
a camp of instruction in Jacksonville. Well, if that is
all, it is a lucky escape."

We little dreamed that on that very day the march
toward Olustee was beginning. The battle took place
next day, and I add one more extract to show how the
news reached Beaufort.

" February 23, 1864.

" There was the sound of revelry by night at a ball in
Beaufort last night, in a new large building beautifully
decorated. All the collected flags of the garrison hung
round and over us, as if the stars and stripes were de-
vised for an ornament alone. The array of uniforms
was such that a civilian became a distinguished object,
much more a lady. All would have gone according to
the proverbial marriage-bell, I suppose, had there not
been a slight palpable shadow over all of us from hear-
ing vague stories of a lost battle in Florida, and from
the thought that perhaps the very ambulances in which
we rode to the ball were ours only until the wounded
or the dead might tenant them.

" General Gillmore only came, I supposed, to put a

FLORIDA AGAIN t

241

good face upon the matter. He went away soon, and
General Saxton went ; then came a rumor that the
Cosmopolitan had actually arrived with wounded, but
still the dance went on. There was nothing unfeeling
about it, — one gets used to things, — when suddenly, in
the midst of the 1 Lancers/ there came a perfect hush,
the music ceasing, a few surgeons went hastily to and
fro, as if conscience-stricken (I should think they might
have been), — then there 1 waved a mighty shadow
in,' as in Uhland's ' Black Knight/ and as we all
stood wondering we were 'ware of General Saxton, who
strode hastily down the hall, his pale face very resolute,
and looking almost sick with anxiety. He had just been
on board the steamer ; there were two hundred and fifty
wounded men just arrived, and the ball must end. Not
that there was anything for us to do ; but the revel was
mistimed, and must be ended ; it was wicked to be dan-
cing, with such a scene of suffering near by.

" Of course the ball was instantly broken up, though
with some murmurings and some longings of appetite, on
the part of some, toward the wasted supper.

" Later, I went on board the boat. Among the long
lines of wounded, black and white intermingled, there
was the wonderful quiet which usually prevails on such
occasions. Not a sob nor a groan, except from those
undergoing removal. It is not self-control, but chiefly
the shock to the system produced by severe wounds,
especially gunshot wounds, and which usually keeps the
patient stiller at first than at any later time.

"A company from my regiment waited on the wharf, in
their accustomed dusky silence, and I longed to ask them
what they thought of our Florida disappointment now ?
In view of what they saw, did they still wish we had
11 p

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FLORIDA AGAIN f

been there ? I confess that in presence of all that hu-
man suffering, I could not wish it. But I would not
have suggested any such thought to them.

"I found our kind-hearted ladies, Mrs. Chamberlin
and Mrs. Dew hurst, on board the steamer, but there was
nothing for them to do, and we walked back to camp in
the radiant moonlight ; Mrs. Chamberlin more than ever
strengthened in her blushing woman's philosophy, ' I
don't care who wins the laurels, provided we don't ! ' "

" February 29.

" But for a few trivial cases of varioloid, we should
certainly have been in that disastrous fight. We were
confidently expected for several days at Jacksonville,
and the commanding general told Colonel Hallowell that
we, being the oldest colored regiment, would have the
right of the line. This was certainly to miss danger
and glory very closely."

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

243

CHAPTER XII.
THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

THERE was in our regiment a very young recruit,
named Sam Roberts, of whom Trowbridge used to
tell this story. Early in the war Trowbridge had been
once sent to Amelia Island with a squad of men, under
direction of Commodore Goldsborough, to remove the
negroes from the island. As the officers stood on the
beach, talking to some of the older freedmen, they saw
this urchin peeping at them from front and rear in a
scrutinizing way, for which his father at last called him
to account, as thus : —

" Hi ! Sammy, what you 's doin', chile ? "
" Daddy,'' said the inquisitive youth, " don't you know
mas'r tell us Yankee hab tail ? I don't see no tail,
daddy ! "

There were many who went to Port Royal during the
war, in civil or military positions, whose previous im-
pressions of the colored race were about as intelligent
as Sam's view of themselves. But, for one, I had always
had so much to do with fugitive slaves, and had studied
the whole subject with such interest, that I found not
much to learn or unlearn as to this one point. Their
courage I had before seen tested ; their docile and lov-
able qualities I had known ; and the only real surprise
that experience brought me was in finding them so little
demoralized. I had not allowed for the extreme re-
moteness and seclusion of their lives, especially among the
Sea Islands. Many of them had literally spent their

244 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

whole existence on some lonely island or remote plan-
tation, where the master never came,, and the overseer
only once or twice a week. With these exceptions, such
persons had never seen a white face, and of the excite-
ments or sins of larger communities they had not a con-
ception. My friend Colonel Hallowell, of the Fifty-
Fourth Massachusetts, told me that he had among his
men some of the worst reprobates of Northern cities.
While I had some men who were unprincipled and
troublesome, there was not one whom I could call a
hardened villain. I was constantly expecting to find
male Topsies, with no notions of good and plenty of evil.
But I never found one. Among the most ignorant
there was very often a childlike absence of vices, which
was rather to be classed as inexperience than as inno-
cence, but which had some of the advantages of both.

Apart from this, they were very much like other men.
General Saxton, examining with some impatience a long
list of questions from some philanthropic Commission at
the North, respecting the traits and habits of the freed-
men, bade some staff-officer answer them all in two
words, — " Intensely human." We all admitted that it
was a striking and comprehensive description.

For instance, as to courage. So far as I have seen,
the mass of men are naturally courageous up to a cer-
tain point. A man seldom runs away from danger which
he ought to face, unless others run ; each is apt to keep
with the mass, and colored soldiers have more than usual
of this gregariousness. In almost every regiment, black
or white, there are a score or two of men who are natu-
rally daring, who really hunger after dangerous adven-
tures, and are happiest when allowed to seek them.
Every commander gradually finds out who these men are,

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

245

and habitually uses them ; certainly I had such, and I
remember with delight their bearing, their coolness, and
their dash. Some of them were negroes, some mulattoes.
One of them would have passed for white, with brown
hair and blue eyes, while others were so black you could
hardly see their features. These picked men varied in
other respects too ; some were neat and well-drilled sol-
diers, while others were slovenly, heedless fellows, — the
despair of their officers at inspection, their pride on a
raid. They were the natural scouts and rangers of the
regiment ; they had the two-o'clock-in-the-morning cour-
age, which Napoleon thought so rare. The mass of the
regiment rose to the same level under excitement, and
were more excitable, I think, than whites, but neither
more nor less courageous.

Perhaps the best proof of a good average of courage
among them was in the readiness they always showed for
any special enterprise. I do not remember ever to have
had the slightest difficulty in obtaining volunteers, but
rather in keeping down the number. The previous pages
include many illustrations of this, as well as of their en-
durance of pain and discomfort. For instance, one of my
lieutenants, a very daring Irishman, who had served for
eight years as a sergeant of regular artillery in Texas,
Utah, and South Carolina, said he had never been en-
gaged in anything so risky as our raid up the St. Mary's.
But in truth it seems to me a mere absurdity to deliber-
ately argue the question of courage, as applied to men
among whom I waked and slept, day and night, for so
many months together. As well might he who has been
wandering for years upon the desert, with a Bedouin
escort, discuss the courage of the men whose tents have
been his shelter and whose spears his guard. TTe, their

246 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

officers, did not go there to teach lessong, but to receive
them. There were more than a hundred men in the
ranks who had voluntarily met more dangers in their
escape from slavery than any of my young captains had
incurred in all their lives.

There was a family named Wilson, I remember, of
which we had several representatives. Three or four
brothers had planned an escape from the interior to our
lines ; they finally decided that the youngest should stay
and take care of the old mother ; the rest, with their
sister and her children, came in a "dug-out" down one
of the rivers. They were fired upon, again and again, by
the pickets along the banks, until finally every man on
board was wounded ; and still they got safely through.
When the bullets began to fly about them, the woman
shed tears, and her little girl of nine said to her, " Don't
cry, mother, Jesus will help you," and then the child
began praying as the wounded men still urged the boat
along. This the mother told me, but I had previ-
ously heard it from an officer who was on the gunboat
that picked them up, — a big, rough man, whose voice
fairly broke as he described their appearance. He said
that the mother and child had been hid for nine months
in the woods before attempting their escape, and the child
would speak to no one, — indeed, she hardly would when
she came to our camp. She was almost white, and this
officer wished to adopt her, but the mother said, " I would
do anything but that for oonah" — this being a sort of
Indian formation of the second-person-plural, such as they
sometimes use. This same officer afterwards saw a re-
ward offered for this family in a Savannah paper.

I used to think that I should not care to read " Uncle
Tom's Cabin " in our camp ; it would have seemed tame.

THE XEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

247

Any group of men in a tent would have had more ex-
citing tales to tell. I needed no fiction when I had
Fanny Wright, for instance, daily passing to and fro
before my tent, with her shy little girl clinging to her
skirts. Fanny was a modest little mulatto woman, a sol-
dier's wife, and a company laundress. She had escaped
from the main-land in a boat, with that child and another.
Her baby was shot dead in her arms, and she reached
our lines with one child safe on earth and the other in
heaven. I never found it needful to give any elementary
instructions in courage to Fanny's husband, you may be
sure.

There was another family of brothers in the regiment
named Miller. Their grandmother, a fine-looking old
woman, nearly seventy, I should think, but erect as a
pine-tree, used sometimes to come and visit them. She
and her husband had once tried to escape from a planta-
tion near Savannah. They had failed, and had been
brought back ; the husband had received five hundred
lashes, and while the white men on the plantation were
viewing the punishment, she was collecting her children
and grandchildren, to the number of twenty-two, in a
neighboring marsh, preparatory to another attempt that
night They found a flat-boat which had been rejected
as unseaworthy, got on board, — still under the old
woman's orders, — and drifted forty miles down the river
to our lines. Trowbridge happened to be on board the
gunboat which picked them up, and he said that when
the " flat " touched the side of the vessel, the grandmother
rose to her full height, with her youngest grandchild in
her arms, and said only, " My God ! are we free ? " By
one of those coincidences of which life is 'full, her hus-
band escaped also, after his punishment, and ^Yas taken
up by the same gunboat.

248

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

I hardly need point out that my young lieutenants
did not have to teach the principles of courage to this
woman's grandchildren.

I often asked myself why it was that, with this capa-
city of daring and endurance, they had not kept the land
in a perpetual flame of insurrection ; why, especially
since the opening of the war, they had kept so still.
The answer was to be found in the peculiar tempera-
ment of the races, in their religious faith, and in the
habit of patience that centuries had fortified. The
shrewder men all said substantially the same thing.
What was the use of insurrection, where everything was
against them ? They had no knowledge, no money, no
arms, no drill, no organization, — above all, no mutual con-
fidence. It was the tradition among them that all insur-
rections were always betrayed by somebody. They had
no mountain passes to defend like the Maroons of Jamaica,
— no impenetrable swamps, like the Maroons of Suri-
nam. Where they had these, even on a small scale,
they had used them, ; — as in certain swamps round Sa-
vannah and in the everglades of Florida, where they
united with the Indians, and would stand fire — so
I was told by General Saxton, who had fought them
there — when the Indians would retreat.

It always seemed to me that, had I been a slave, my
life would have been one long scheme of insurrection.
But I learned to respect the patient self-control of those
who had waited till the course of events should open a
better way. When it came they accepted it. Insurrec-
tion on their part would at once have divided the North-
ern sentiment ; and a large part of our army would have
joined with the Southern army to hunt them down. By
their waiting till we needed them, their freedom was
secured.

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER. 249

Two things chiefly surprised me in their feeling toward
their former masters, — the absence of affection and the
absence of revenge. I expected to find a good deal of the
patriarchal feeling. It always seemed to me a very ill-
applied emotion, as connected with the facts and laws of
American slavery, — still I expected to find it. I sup-
pose that my men and their families and visitors may
have had as much of it as the mass of freed slaves ; but
certainly they had not a particle. I never could cajole one
of them, in his most discontented moment, into regretting
" ole mas'r time " for a single instant. I never heard one
speak of the masters except as natural enemies. Yet they
were perfectly discriminating as to individuals ; many of
them claimed to have had kind owners, and some ex-
pressed great gratitude to them for particular favors re-
ceived. It was not the individuals, but the ownership, of
which they complained. That they saw to be a wrong
which no special kindnesses could right. On this, as on
all points connected with slavery, they understood the
matter as clearly as Garrison or Phillips ; the wisest
philosophy could teach them nothing as to that, nor
could any false philosophy befog them. After all, per-
sonal experience is the best logician.

Certainly this indifference did not proceed from any
want of personal affection, for they were the most affec-
tionate people among whom I had ever lived. They
attached themselves to every officer who deserved love,
and to some who did not ; and if they failed to show it
to their masters, it proved the wrongfulness of the mas-
tery. On the other hand, they rarely showed one gleam
of revenge, and I shall never forget the self-control with
which one of our best sergeants pointed out to me, at
Jacksonville, the very place where one of his brothers
11 *

250 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

had been hanged by the whites for leading a party of
fugitive slaves. He spoke of it as a historic matter,
without any bearing on the present issue.

But side by side with this faculty of patience, there
was a certain tropical element in the men, a sort of fiery
ecstasy when aroused, which seemed to link them by
blood with the French Turcos, and made them really re-
semble their natural enemies, the Celts, far more than the
Anglo-Saxon temperament. To balance this there were
great individual resources when alone, — a sort of Indian
wiliness and subtlety of resource. Their gregariousness
and love of drill made them more easy to keep in hand
than white American troops, who rather like to straggle or
go in little squads, looking out for themselves, without be-
ing bothered with officers. The blacks prefer organization.

The point of inferiority that I always feared, though
I never had occasion to prove it, was that they might
show less fibre, less tough and dogged resistance, than
whites, during a prolonged trial, — a long, disastrous
march, for instance, or the hopeless defence of a be-
sieged town. I should not be afraid of their mutinying
or running away, but of their drooping and dying. It
might not turn out so ; but I mention it for the sake of
fairness, and to avoid overstating the merits of these
troops. As to the simple general fact of courage and re-
liability I think no officer in our camp ever thought of
there being any difference between black and white.
And certainly the opinions of these officers, who for
years risked their lives every moment on the fidelity of
their men, were worth more than those of all the world
beside.

No doubt there were reasons why this particular war
was an especially favorable test of the colored soldiers.

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

251

They had more to fight for than the whites. Besides
the flag and the Union, they had home and wife and
child. They fought with ropes round their necks, and
when orders were issued that the officers of colored
troops should be put to death on capture, they took a
grim satisfaction. It helped their esprit de corps im-
mensely. With us, at least, there was to be no play-
soldier. Though they had begun with a slight feel-
ing of inferiority to the white troops, this compliment
substituted a peculiar sense of self-respect. And even
when the new colored regiments besan to arrive from
the North my men still pointed out this difference, — that
in case of ultimate defeat, the Northern troops, black or
white, would go home, while the First South Carolina
must fight it out or be re-enslaved. This was one thing
that made the St. John's River so attractive to them and
even to me ; — it was so much nearer the everglades.
I used seriously to ponder, during the darker periods
of the war, whether I might not end my days as an out-
law, — a leader of Maroons.

Meanwhile, I used to try to make some capital for the
Northern troops, in their estimate, by pointing out that it
was a disinterested thing in these men from the free
States, to come down there and fight, that the slaves might
be free. But they were apt keenly to reply, that many of
the white soldiers disavowed this object, and said that
that was not the object of the war, nor even likely to
be its end. Some of them even repeated Mr. Seward's
unfortunate words to Mr. Adams, which some general
had been heard to quote. So, on the whole, I took noth-
ing by the motion, as was apt to be the case with those
who spoke a good word for our Government, in those
vacillating and half proslavery days.

252 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

At any rate, this ungenerous discouragement had this
good effect, that it touched their pride ; they would de-
serve justice, even if they did not obtain it. This pride
was afterwards severely tested during the disgraceful
period when the party of repudiation in Congress tem-
porarily deprived them of their promised pay. In my
regiment the men never mutinied, nor even threatened
mutiny ; they seemed to make ifra matter of honor to do
their part, even if the Government proved a defaulter ;
but one third of them, including the best men in the
regiment, quietly refused to take a dollar's pay, at the
reduced price. " We 'se gib our sogerin' to de Guv'-
ment, Cunnel," they said, " but we won't 'spise ourselves
so much for take de seben doHar." They even made a
contemptuous ballad, of which I once caught a snatch.

" Ten dollar a month !

Tree ob dat for clothin' !
Go to Washington
Fight for Linkum's darter! "

This " Lincoln's daughter " stood for the Goddess of
Liberty, it would seem. They would be true to her, but
they would not take the half-pay. This was contrary to
my advice, and to that of their other officers ; but I now
think it was wise. Nothing less than this would have
called the attention of the American people to this out-
rageous fraud.*

The same slow forecast had often marked their action
in other ways. One of our ablest sergeants, Henry
Mclntyre, who had earned two dollars and a half per
day as a master-carpenter in Florida, and paid one dollar
and a half to his master, told me that he had deliberately
refrained from learning to read, because that knowledge

* See Appendix.

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

253

exposed the slaves to so much more watching and sus-
picion. This man and a few others had built on con-
tract the greater part of the town of Micanopy in Flori-
da, and was a thriving man when his accustomed dis-
cretion failed for once, and he lost all. He named his
child William Lincoln, and it brought upon him such
suspicion that he had to make his escape.

I cannot conceive what people at the North mean by
speaking of the negroes as a bestial or brutal race. Ex-
cept in some insensibility to animal pain, I never knew
of an act in my regiment which I should call brutal. In
reading Kay's " Condition of the English Peasantry"
I was constantly struck with the unlikeness of my men
to those therein described. This could not proceed from
my prejudices as an abolitionist, for they would have led
me the other way, and indeed I had once written a little
essay to show the brutalizing influences of slavery. I
learned to think that we abolitionists had underrated the
suffering produced by slavery among the negroes, but
had overrated the demoralization. Or rather, we did
not know how the religious temperament of the negroes
had checked the demoralization. Yet again, it must be
admitted that this temperament, born of sorrow and
oppression, is far more marked in the slave than in the
native African.

Theorize as we may, there was certainly in our camp
an average tone of propriety which all visitors noticed,
and which was not created, but only preserved by disci-
pline. I was always struck, not merely by the cour-
tesy of the men, but also by a certain sober decency
of language. If a man had to report to me any disa-
greeable fact, for instance, he was sure to do it with
gravity and decorum, and not blurt it out in an offensive

254

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

way. And it certainly was a significant fact that the
ladies of our camp, when we were so fortunate as to
have such guests, — the young wives, especially, of the
adjutant and quartermaster, — used to go among the
tents when the men were off duty, in order to hear their
big pupils read and spell, without the slightest fear of
annoyance, I do not mean direct annoyance or insult,
for no man who valued his life would have ventured that
in presence of the others, but I mean the annoyance of
accidentally seeing or hearing improprieties not intended
for them. They both declared that they would not have
moved about with anything like the same freedom in any
white camp they had ever entered, and it always roused
their indignation to hear the negro race called brutal or
depraved.

This came partly from natural good manners, partly
from the habit of deference, partly from ignorance of
the refined and ingenious evil which is learned in large
towns ; but a large part came from their strongly re-
ligious temperament. Their comparative freedom from
swearing, for instance, — an abstinence which I fear
military life did not strengthen, — was partly a matter
of principle. Once I heard one of them say to another,
in a transport of indignation, " Ha-a-a, boy, s'pose I no
be a Christian, I cuss you so!" — which was certainly
drawing pretty hard upon the bridle. " Cuss," however,
was a generic term for all manner of evil speaking ; they
would say, " He cuss me fool," or " He cuss me coward,"
as if the essence of propriety were in harsh and angry
speech, — which I take to be good ethics. But cer-
tainly, if Uncle Toby could have recruited his army in
Flanders from our ranks, their swearing would have
ceased to be historic.

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER,

255

It used to seem to me that never, since Cromwell's
time, had there been soldiers in whom the religious ele-
ment held such a place. " A religious army," " a gospel
army," were their frequent phrases. In their prayer-
meetings there was always a mingling, often quaint
enough, of the warlike and the pious. " If each one of
us was a praying man," said Corporal Thomas Long in a
sermon, " it appears to me that we could fight as well with
prayers as with bullets, — for the Lord has said that if
you have faith even as a grain of mustard-seed cut into
four parts, you can say to the sycamore-tree, Arise, and
it will come up." And though Corporal Long may have
got a little perplexed in his botany, his faith proved
itself by works, for he volunteered and went many miles
on a solitary scouting expedition into the enemy's country
in Florida, and got back safe, after I had given him up
for lost.

The extremes of religious enthusiasm I did not ven-
ture to encourage, for I could not do it honestly ; neither
did I discourage them, but simply treated them with
respect, and let them have their way, so long as they did
not interfere with discipline. In general they promoted
it. The mischievous little drummer-boys, whose scrapes
and quarrels were the torment of my existence, might be
seen kneeling together in their tents to say their prayers
at night, and I could hope that their slumbers were blessed
by some spirit of peace, such as certainly did not rule over
their waking. The most reckless and daring fellows in
the regiment were perfect fatalists in their confidence
that 0 God would watch over them, and that if they died,
it would be because their time had come. This almost
excessive faith, and the love of freedom and of their
families, all co-operated with their pride as soldiers to

256 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

make them do their duty. I could not have spared any
of these incentives. Those of our officers who were
personally the least influenced by such considerations,
still saw the need of encouraging them among the men.

I am bound to say that this strongly devotional turn
was not always accompanied by the practical virtues ;
but neither was it strikingly divorced from them. A few
men, I remember, who belonged to the ancient order of
hypocrites, but not many. Old Jim Cushman was our
favorite representative scamp. He used to vex his right-
eous soul over the admission of the unregenerate to
prayer-meetings, and went off once shaking his head and
muttering, " Too much goat shout wid de sheep." But
he who objected to this profane admixture used to get
our mess-funds far more hopelessly mixed with his own,
when he went out to buy us chickens. And I remember
that, on being asked by our Major, in that semi-Ethiop-
ian dialect into which we sometimes slid, " How much
wife you got, Jim ? " the veteran replied, with a sort of
penitence for lost opportunities, u On'y but four, Sah ! "

Another man of somewhat similar quality went among
us by the name of Henry Ward Beecher, from a remark-
able resemblance in face and figure to that sturdy divine.
I always felt a sort of admiration for this worthy, because
of the thoroughness with which he outwitted me, and
the sublime impudence in which he culminated. He got
a series of passes from me, every week or two, to go
and see his wife on a neighboring plantation, and finally,
when this resource seemed exhausted, he came boldly for
one more pass, that he might go and be married.

We used to quote him a good deal, also, as a sample
of a certain Shakespearian boldness of personification
in which the men sometimes indulged. Once, I remem-

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

257

ber, his captain bad given him a fowling-piece to clean.
Henry "Ward had left it in the captain's tent, and the
latter, finding it, had transferred the job to some one else.

Then, came a confession, in this precise form, with
many dignified gesticulations : —

" Cappen ! I took dat gun, and I put him in Cappen
tent. Den I look, and de gun not dar ! Den Conscience
say, Cappen mus' bab gib dat gun to somebody else for
clean. Den I say, Conscience, you reason correck ! "

Compare Lancelot Gobbo's soliloquy in the " Two
Gentlemen of Verona ! "

Still, I maintain that, as a whole, the men were re-
markably free from inconvenient vices. There was no
more lying and stealing than in average white regiments.
The surgeon was not much troubled by shamming sick-
ness, and there were not a great many complaints of
theft. There was less quarrelling than among white
soldiers, and scarcely ever a,n instance of drunkenness.
Perhaps the influence of their officers had something to
do with this ; for not a ration of whiskey was ever issued
to the men, nor did I ever touch it, while in the army,
nor approve a requisition for any of the officers, without
which it could not easily be obtained. In this respect
our surgeons fortunately agreed with me, and we never
had reason to regret it. I believe the use of ardent
spirits to be as useless and injurious in the army as on
board ship, and among the colored troops, especially, who
had never been accustomed to it, I think that it did only
harm.

The point of greatest laxity in their moral habits —
the want of a high standard of chastity — was not one
which affected their camp life to any great extent, and it
therefore came less under my observation. But I found

Q

258

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

to my relief that, whatever their deficiency in this re-
spect, it was modified by the general quality of their
temperament, and indicated rather a softening and relax-
ation than a hardening and brutalizing of their moral
natures. Any insult or violence in this direction was a
thing unknown. I never heard of an instance. It was
not uncommon for men to have two or three wives in dif-
ferent plantations, — the second, or remoter, partner being
called a " 'broad wife," — i. e. wife abroad. But the
whole tendency was toward marriage, and this state of
things was only regarded as a bequest from " mas'r
time."

I knew a great deal about their marriages, for they
often consulted me, and took my counsel as lovers are
wont to do, — that is, when it pleased their fancy.
Sometimes they would consult their captains first, and
then come to me in despairing appeal. " Cap'n Scroby
[Trowbridge] he acvise me not for marry dis lady, 'cause
she hab seben chil'en. What for use ? Cap'n Scroby
can't lub for me. I mus' lub for myself, and I lub he."
I remember that on this occasion " he " stood by, a most
unattractive woman, jet black, with an old pink muslin
dress, torn white cotton gloves, and a very flowery bon-
net, that must have descended through generations of
tawdry mistresses.

I felt myself compelled to reaffirm the decision of the
inferior court. The result was as usual. They were
married the next day, and I believe that she proved an
excellent wife, though she had seven children, whose
father was also in the regiment. If she did not, I know
many others who did, and certainly I have never seen
more faithful or more happy marriages than among that
people.

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER. 259

The question was often asked, whether the Southern
slaves or the Northern free blacks made the best sol-
diers. It was a compliment to both classes that each offi-
cer usually preferred those whom he had personally com-
manded. I preferred those who had been slaves, for
their greater docility and affectionateness, for the power-
ful stimulus which their new freedom gave, and for the
fact that they were lighting, in a manner, for their own
homes and firesides. Every one of these considerations
afforded a special aid to discipline, and cemented a pecu-
liar tie of sympathy between them and their officers.
They seemed like clansmen, and had a more confiding
and filial relation to us than seemed to me to exist in the
Northern colored regiments.

So far as the mere habits of slavery went, they were a
poor preparation for military duty. Inexperienced offi-
cers often assumed that, because these men had been
slaves before enlistment, they would bear to be treated as
such afterwards. Experience proved the contrary. The
more strongly we marked the difference between the
slave and the soldier, the better for the regiment. One
half of military duty lies in obedience, the other half in
self-respect. A soldier without self-respect is worthless.
Consequently there were no regiments in which it was so
important to observe the courtesies and proprieties of
military life as in these. I had to caution the officers to
be more than usually particular in returning the saluta-
tions of the men ; to be very careful in their dealings
with those on picket or guard-duty ; and on no account to
omit the titles of the non-commissioned officers. So, in
dealing out punishments, we had carefully to avoid all
that was brutal and arbitrary, all that savored of the over-
seer. Any such dealing found them as obstinate and

260 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

contemptuous as was Topsy when Miss Ophelia under-
took to chastise her. A system of light punishments,
rigidly administered according to the prescribed military
forms, had more weight with them than any amount of
angry severity. To make them feel as remote as pos-
sible from the plantation, this was essential. By adher-
ing to this, and constantly appealing to their pride as sol-
diers and their sense of duty, we were able to maintain a
high standard of discipline, — so, at least, the inspecting
officers said, — and to get rid, almost entirely, of the more
degrading class of punishments, — standing on barrels,
tying up by the thumbs, and the ball and chain.

In all ways we had to educate their self-respect. For
instance, at first they disliked to obey their own non-com-
missioned officers. " I don't want him to play de white
man ober me," was a sincere objection. They had been
so impressed with a sense of inferiority that the distinc-
tion extended to the very principles of honor. " I ain't got
colored-man principles," said Corporal London Simmons,
indignantly defending himself from some charge before
me. " I 'se got white-gemtnan principles. I 'se do my
best. If Cap'n tell me to take a man, s'pose de man be
as big as a house, I '11 clam hold on him till I die, incep-
tion [excepting] I 'm sick."

But it was plain that this feeling was a bequest of
slavery, which military life would wear off. We im-
pressed it upon them that they did not obey their officers
because they were white, but because they were their
officers, just as the Captain must obey me, and I the
General ; that we were all subject to military law, and
protected by it in turn. Then we taught them to take
pride in having good material for non-commissioned
officers among themselves, and in obeying them. Oa

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

261

my arrival there was one white first sergeant, and it was
a question whether to appoint others. This I prevented,
but left that one, hoping the men themselves would at
last petition for his removal, which at length they did.
He was at once detailed on other duty. The pictu-
resqueness of the regiment suffered, for he was very tall
and fair, and I liked to see him step forward in the cen-
tre when the line of first sergeants came together at
dress-parade. But it was a help to discipline to elimi-
nate the Saxon, for it recognized a principle.

Afterwards I had excellent battalion-drills without a
single white officer, by way of experiment ; putting each
company under a sergeant, and going through the most
difficult movements, such as division-columns and oblique-
squares. And as to actual discipline, it is doing no injus-
tice to the line-officers of the regiment to say that none
of them received from the men more implicit obedience
than Color- Sergeant Rivers. I should have tried to
obtain commissions for him and several others before I
left the regiment, had their literary education been suffi-
cient ; and such an attempt was finally made by Lieu-
tenant-Colonel Trowbridge, my successor in immediate
command, but it proved unsuccessful. It always seemed
to me an insult to those brave men to have novices put
over their heads, on the ground of color alone ; and the
men felt it the more keenly as they remained longer in
service. There were more than seven hundred enlisted
men in the regiment, when mustered out after more than
three years' service. The ranks had been kept full by
enlistment, but there were only fourteen line-officers in-
stead of the full thirty. The men who should have filled
those vacancies were doing duty as sergeants in the
ranks.

262 THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

In what respect were the colored troops a source of
disappointment ? To me in one respect only, — that of
health. Their health improved, indeed, as they grew
more familiar with military life ; but I think that neither
their physical nor moral temperament gave them that
toughness, that obstinate purpose of living, which sus-
tains the more materialistic Anglo-Saxon. They had
not, to be sure, the same predominant diseases, suffering
in the pulmonary, not in the digestive organs ; but they
suffered a good deal. They felt malaria less, but they
were more easily choked by dust and made ill by damp-
ness. On the other hand, they submitted more readily
to sanitary measures than whites, and, with efficient offi-
cers, were more easily kept clean. They were injured
throughout the army by an undue share of fatigue duty,
which is not only exhausting but demoralizing to a soldier;
by the unsuitableness of the rations, which gave them
salt meat instead of rice and hominy ; and by the lack of
good medical attendance. Their childlike constitutions
peculiarly needed prompt and efficient surgical care ; but
almost all the colored troops were enlisted late in the
war, when it was hard to get good surgeons for any regi-
ments, and especially for these. In this respect I had
nothing to complain of, since there were no surgeons in
the army for whom I would have exchanged my own.

And this late arrival on the scene affected not only the
medical supervision of the colored troops, but their oppor-
tunity for a career. It is not my province to write their
history, nor to vindicate them, nor to follow them upon
those larger fields compared with which the adventures
of my regiment appear but a partisan warfare. Yet
this, at least, may be said. The operations on the South
Atlantic coast, which long seemed a merely subordinate

THE NEGRO AS A SOLDIER.

263

and incidental part of the great contest, proved to be one
of the final pivots on which it turned. All now admit that
the fate of the Confederacy was decided by Sherman's
march to the sea. Port Royal was the objective point
to which he marched, and he found the Department of
the South, when he reached it, held almost exclusively by
colored troops. Next to the merit of those who made
the march was that of those who held open the door.
That service will always remain among the laurels of
the black regiments.

264

CONCLUSION.

CHAPTER XIII.

CONCLUSION.

MY personal forebodings proved to be correct, and
so were the threats of the surgeons. In May,
1864, I went home invalided, was compelled to resign in
October from the same cause, and never saw the First
South Carolina again. Nor did any one else see it
under that appellation, for about that time its name was
changed to the Thirty-Third United States Colored
Troops, " a most vague and heartless baptism," as the
man in the story says. It was one of those instances
of injudicious sacrifice of esprit de corps which were so
frequent in our army. All the pride of my men was
centred in " de Fus' Souf" ; the very words were a
recognition of the loyal South as against the disloyal.
To make the matter worse, it had been originally de-
signed to apply the new numbering only to the new regi-
ments, and so the early numbers were all taken up before
the older regiments came in. The governors of States,
by especial effort, saved their colored troops from this
chagrin ; but we found here, as more than once before,
the disadvantage of having no governor to stand by us.
" It 's a far cry to Loch Awe," said the Highland prov-
erb. We knew to our cost that it was a far cry to
Washington in those days, unless an officer left his duty
and stayed there all the time.

In June, 1864, the regiment was ordered to Folly
Island, and remained there and on Cole's Island till the
siege of Charleston was done. It took part in the battle

CONCLUSION.

265

of Honey Hill, and in the capture of a fort on James
Island, of which Corporal Robert Yendross wrote trium-
phantly in a letter, " When we took the pieces we found
that we recapt our own pieces back that we lost on
Willtown Bevear (River) and thank the Lord did not
lose but seven men out of our regiment."

In February, 1865, the regiment was ordered to
Charleston to do provost and guard duty, in March
to Savannah, in June to Hamburg and Aiken, in Septem-
ber to Charleston and its neighborhood, and was finally
mustered out of service — after being detained beyond
its three years, so great was the scarcity of troops — on
the 9th of February, 1866. With dramatic fitness
this muster-out took place at Fort Wagner, above the
graves of Shaw and his men. I give in the Appendix
the farewell address of Lieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge,
who commanded the regiment from the time I left it.
Brevet Brigadier-General W. T. Bennett, of the One
Hundred and Second United States Colored Troops, who
was assigned to the command, never actually held it,
being always in charge of a brigade.

The officers and men are scattered far and wide.
One of our captains was a member of the South Caro-
lina Constitutional Convention, and is now State Treas-
urer ; three of our sergeants were in that Convention,
including Sergeant Prince Rivers ; and he and Sergeant
Henry Hayne are still members of the State Legisla-
ture. Both in that State and in Florida the former
members of the regiment are generally prospering, so
far as I can hear. The increased self-respect of army
life fitted them to do the duties of civil life. It is not in
nature that the jealousy of race should die out in this
generation, but I trust they will not see the fulfilment of
12

266

CONCLUSION.

Corporal Simon drum's prediction. Simon was one of
the shrewdest old fellows in the regiment, and he said
to me once, as he was jogging out of Beaufort behind me,
on the Shell Road, " I 'se goin' to leave de Souf, Cun-
nel, when de war is over. I 'se made up my mind dat
dese yer Secesh will neber be cibilized in my time."

The only member of the regiment whom I have seen
since leaving it is a young man, Cyrus Wiggins, who was
brought off from the main-land in a dug-out, in broad
day, before the very eyes of the rebel pickets, by Cap-
tain James S. Rogers, of my regiment. It was one of
the most daring acts I ever saw, and as it happened
under my own observation I was glad when the
Captain took home with him this " captive of his bow
and spear " to be educated under his eye in Massachu-
setts. Cyrus has done credit to his friends, and will be
satisfied with nothing short of a college-training at
Howard University. I have letters from the men, very
quaint in handwriting and spelling ; but he is the only one
whom I have seen. Some time I hope to revisit those
scenes, and shall feel, no doubt, like a bewildered Rip
Van Winkle who once wore uniform.

We who served with the black troops have this pecu-
liar satisfaction, that, whatever dignity or sacredness the
memories of the war may have to others, they have
more to us. In that contest all the ordinary ties of
patriotism were the same, of course, to us as to the rest ;
they had no motives which we had not, as they have
now no memories which are not also ours. But the
peculiar privilege of associating with an outcast race, of
training it to defend its rights, and to perform its duties,
this was our especial meed. The vacillating policy of the
Government sometimes filled other officers with doubt and

CONCLUSION.

shame ; until the negro had justice, they were but de-
fending liberty with one hand and crushing it with the
other. From this inconsistency we were free. Whatever
the Government did, we at least were working in the right
direction. If this was not recognized on our side of the
lines, we knew that it was admitted on the other. Fight-
ing with ropes round our necks, denied the ordinary cour-
tesies of war till we ourselves compelled their concession,
we could at least turn this outlawry into a compliment.
"We had touched the pivot of the war. Whether this vast
and dusky mass should prove the weakness of the nation
or its strength, must depend in great measure, we knew,
upon our efforts. Till the blacks were armed, there was
no guaranty of their freedom. It was their demeanor
under arms that shamed the nation into recognizing them
as men.

APPENDIX.

Appendix A.

ROSTER OF OFFICERS.
First South Carolina Volunteers,
Afterwards Thirty-Third United States Colored Troops.
Colonels.

T. W. Higginson, 51st Mass. Vols., Xov. 10, 1862 ; Resigned, Oct 27,
1864.

Wm. T. Bennett, 102d U. S. C. T., Dec. 18, 1864; Mustered out with
regiment.

Lieutenant- Colonels.

Liberty Billings, Civil Life, Nov. 1, 1862; Dismissed by Examining

Board, July 28, 1863.
John D. Strong, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Resigned, Aug. 15, 1864.
Chas. T. Trowbridge, Promotion, Dec. 9, 1864; Mustered out, &c.

Majors.

John D. Strong, Civil Life, Oct. 21, 1862; Lt.-Col., July 28, 1863.
Chas. T. Trowbridge, Promotion, Aug. 11, 1S63; Lt.-Col.. Dec. 9,
1864.

H. A. "Whitney, Promotion, Dec. 9, 1864; Mustered out, &c.

Surgeons.

Seth Rogers, Civil Life, Dec. 2, 1862; Resigned, Dec. 21, 1863.
Wm. B. Crandall, 29th Ct., June 8, 1864; Mustered out, &c.

Assistant Surgeons.

J. M. Hawks, Civil Life, Oct. 20, 1862; Surgeon 3d G. C. Vols., Oct.
29, 1863.

Thos. T. Minor, 7th Ct., Jan. 8, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 21, 1864.
E. S. Stuard, Civil Life, Sept. 4, 1865; Mustered out, &c.

270

APPENDIX.

Chaplain.

Jas. H. Fowler, Civil Life, Oct. 24, 1862 ; Mustered out, &c.

Captains*

Chas. T. Trowbridge, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Oct. 13, 1862; Major, Aug.
11, 1863.

Wm. James, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; Mustered out, &c.
W. J. Randolph, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Jan. 29, 1864.
H. A. Whitney, 8th Me., Oct. 13, 1862; Major, Dec. 9, 1864.
Alex. Heasley", 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; Killed at Augusta, Ga.,
Sept. 6, 1865.

George Dolly, 8th Me., Nov. 1, 1862 ; Resigned, Oct. 30, 1863.
L. W. Metcalf, 8th Me., Nov. 11, 1862; Mustered out, &c.
Jas. H. Tonking, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Nov. 17, 1862; Resigned, July 28,
1863.

Jas. S. Rogers, 51st Mass., Dec. 6, 1862; Resigned, Oct. 20, 1863.
J. H. Thibadeau, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863 ; Mustered out, &c.
George D. Walker, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Resigned, Sept. 1,
1864.

Wm. H. Danilson, Promotion, July 28, 1863; Major 128th U. S. C. T.,

May, 1865 [now 1st Lt. 40th U. S. Infantry].
Wm. W. Sampson, Promotion, Nov. 5, 1863; Mustered out, &c.
John M. Thompson, Promotion, Nov. 7, 1863; Mustered out, &c.

[Now 1st Lt. and Bvt. Capt. 38th U. S. Inf y.]
Abr. W. Jackson, Promotion, April 30, 1864; Resigned, Aug. 15, 1865.
Niles G. Parker, Promotion, Feb., 1865; Mustered out, &c.
Chas. W. Hooper, Promotion, Sept., 1865; Mustered out, &c.
E. C. Merriam, Promotion, Sept., 1865; Resigned, Dec. 4, 1865
E. W. Robbins, Promotion, Nov. 1, 1865; Mustered out, &c.
N. S. White, Promotion, Nov. 18, 1865; Mustered out, &c.

First Lieutenants.

G. W. Dewhurst (Adjutant), Civil Life, Oct. 20, 1862; Resigned,
Aug. 31, 1865.

J. M. Bingham (Quartermaster), Civil Life, Oct. 20, 1862; Died from
effect of exhaustion on a military expedition, July 20, 1863*.

G. M. Chamberlin (Quartermaster), 11th Mass. Battery, Aug. 29,
1863 ; Mustered out, &c.

Geo. D. Walker, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Oct. 13, 1862; Captain, Aug. 11,
1863.

W. H. Danilson, 48th N. Y., Oct. 13, 1862; Captain, July 26, 1863.
J. H. Thibadeau, 8th Me., Oct. 13, 1862; Captain, Jan. 10, 1863. ,

APPENDIX.

271

Ephraim P. White, 8th Me., Nov. 14, 1862; Resigned, March 9,
1864.

Jas. Pomeroy, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Feb. 9, 1863.
Jas. F. Johnston, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862*: Resigned, March 26, 1863.
Jesse Fisher, 48th N. Y., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Jan. 26, 1863.
Chas. I. Davis, 8th Me., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Feb. 28, 1863.
Wm. Stockdale, 8th Me., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, May 2, 1863.
Jas. B. O'Neil, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863; Resigned, May 2, 1863.
W. W. Sampson, Promotion, Jan. 10, 1863 ; Captain, Oct. 30, 1863.
J. M. Thompson, Promotion, Jan. 27, 1863; Captain, Oct. 30, 1863.
R. M. Gaston, Promotion, April 15, 1863; Killed at Coosaw Ferry, S.

C, May 27, 1863.
Jas. B. West, Promotion, Feb. 28, 1863; Resigned, June 14, 1865.
N. G. Parker, Promotion, May 5, 1863; Captain, Feb., 1865.
W. H. Hyde, Promotion, May 5, 1863; Resigned, April 3, 1865.
Henry A. Stone, 8th Me., June 26, 1863; Resigned, Dec. 16, 1864.
J. A. Trowbridge, Promotion, Aug. 11, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 29,

1864.

A. W. Jackson, Promotion, Aug. 26, 1863 ; Captain, April 30, 1864.
Chas. E. Parker, Promotion, Aug. 26, 1863; Resigned, Nov. 29, 1864.
Chas. W. Hooper, Promotion, Nov. 8, 1863; Captain, Sept., 1865.
E. C. Merriam, Promotion, Nov. 19, 1863; Captain, Sept., 1865.
Henry A. Beach, Promotion, April 30, 1864; Resigned, Sept. 23, 1864.

E. W. Robbins, Promotion, April 30, 1864: Captain, Nov. 1, 1865.
Asa Child, Promotion, Sept., 1865; Mustered out, &c.

N. S. White, Promotion, Sept., 1865; Captain, Nov. 18, 1865.

F. S. Goodrich, Promotion, Oct., 1865; Mustered out, &c.
E. W. Hyde, Promotion, Oct. 27, 1865; Mustered out, &c.
Henry Wood, Promotion, Nov., 1865; Mustered out, &c.

Second Lieutenants.

J. A. Trowbidge, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., Aug. 11,
1863.

Jas. B. O'Neie, 1st U. S. Art'y, Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., Jan. 10,
1863.

W. W. Sampson, 8th Me., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., Jan. 10, 1863.
J. M. Thompson, 7th N. H., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., Jan. 27, 1863.
R. M. Gaston, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt,, April 15, 1863.
W. H. Hyde, 6th Ct., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., May 5, 1863.
Jas. B. West, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; First Lt., Feb. 28, 1863.
Harry C. West, 100th Pa., Oct. 13, 1862; Resigned, Nov. 4, 1864.
E. C. Merriam, 8th Me., Nov. 17, 1862; First Lt., Nov. 19, 1863.
Chas. E. Parker, 8th Me., Nov. 17, 1862; First Lt., Aug. 26, 1863.

272

APPENDIX.

C. W. Hooper, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Feb. 17, 1863; First Lt., April 15,
18G3.

N. G. Parker, 1st Mass. Cavalry, March, 1863 ; First Lt,, May 5, 1863.
A. H. Tikrell, 1st Mass. Cav., March 6, 1863; Resigned, July 22,1863.
A. W. Jackson, 8th Me., March 6, 1863; First Lt, Aug. 26, 1863.
Henry A. Beach, 48th N. Y., April 5, 1863; First Lt., April 30, 1864.

E. W. Bobbins, 8th Me., April 5, 1863; First Lt., April 30, 1864.

A. B. Brown, Civil Life, April 17, 1863 ; Resigned, Nov. 27, 1863.

F. M. Gould, 3d R. I. Battery, June 1, 1863; Resigned, June 8, 1864.
Asa Child, 8th Me., Aug. 7, 1863; First Lt., Sept., 1865.

Jerome T. Furman, 52d Pa., Aug. 30, 1863; Killed at Walhalla, S.

C, Aug. 26, 1865.
John W. Selvage, 48th N. Y., Sept. 10, 1863; First Lt. 36th U. S. C.

T., March, 1865.

Mirand W. Saxton, Civil Life, Nov. 19, 1863; Captain 128th U. S.

C. T., June 25, 1864 [now Second Lt. 38th U. S. Infantry].
Nelson S. White, Dec. 22, 1863; First Lt., Sept., 1865.
Edw. W. Hyde, Civil Life, May 4, 1864; First Lt., Oct. 27, 1865.
F. S. Goodrich, 115th N. Y., May, 1864; First Lt., Oct., 1865.

B. H. Manning, Aug. 11, 1864; Capt. 128th U. S. C. T., March 17,
1865.

E. M. Davis, 4th Mass. Cavalry, Nov. 19, 1864; Capt. 104th U. S. C.

T., May 11, 1865.
Henry Wood, N. Y. Vol. Eng., Aug., 1865; First Lt., Nov., 1865.
John M, Searles, 1st N. Y. Mounted Rifles, June 15, 1865 ; Mustered

out, &c.

Appendix B.
THE FIRST BLACK SOLDIERS.

It is well known that the first systematic attempt to organ-
ize colored troops during the war of the rebellion was the
so-called " Hunter Regiment." The officer originally detailed
to recruit for this purpose was Sergeant C. T. Trowbridge,
of the New York Volunteer Engineers (Col. Serrell). His
detail was dated May 7, 1862, S. O. 84 Dept. South.

Eulistments came in very slowly, and no wonder. The
white officers and soldiers were generally opposed to the
experiment, and filled the ears of the negroes with the same
tales which had been told them by their masters, — that the

APPEXDIX.

273

Yankees really meant to sell them to Cuba, and the like.
The mildest threats were that they would be made to woik
without pay (which turned out to be the case), and that they
would be put in the front rank in every battle. Nobody
could assure them that they and their families would be freed
by the Government, if they fought for it, since no such policy
had been adopted. Nevertheless, they gradually enlisted,
the most efficient recruiting officer being Sergeant William
Bronson, of Company A, in my regiment, who always prided
himself on this service, and used to sign himself by the very
original title. k* No. 1, African Foundations " in commemora-
tion of hi3 deeds.

By patience and tact these obstacles would in time have
been overcome. But before long, unfortunately, some of
General Hunter s staff became impatient, and induced him
to take the position that the blacks must enlist. Accordingly,
squads of soldiers were sent to seize all the able-bodied men
on certain plantations, and bring them to the camp. The
immediate consequence was a renewal of the old suspicion,
ending in a wide-spread belief that they were to be sent to
Cuba, as their masters had predicted. The ultimate result
was a habit of distrust, discontent, and desertion, that it
was almost impossible to surmount. All the men who knew
anything about General Hunter believed in him ; but they
all knew that there were bad influences around him, and
that the Government had repudiated his promises. They
had been kept four months in service, and then had been dis-
missed without pay. That having been the case, why should
not the Government equally repudiate General Saxton's prom-
ises or mine ? As a matter of fact, the Government did repu-
diate these pledges for years, though we had its own written
authority to give them. But that matter needs an appendix
by itself.

The "Hunter Regiment" remained in camp on Hilton
Head Island until the beginning of August, 1862, kept con-
stantly under drill, but much demoralized by desertion. It
12* s

274

APPENDIX

was then disbanded, except one company That company,
under command of Sergeant Trowbridge, then acting as Cap-
tain, but not commissioned, was kept in service, and was sent
(August 5, 1862) to garrison St. Simon's Island, on the coast
of Georgia. On this island (made famous by Mrs. Kemble's
description) there were then five hundred colored people,
and not a single white man.

The black soldiers were sent down on the Ben De Ford,
Captain Hallett. On arriving, Trowbridge was at once in-
formed by Commodore Goldsborough, naval commander at
that station, that there was a party of rebel guerillas on the
island, and was asked whether he would trust his soldiers in
pursuit of them. Trowbridge gladly assented ; and the Com-
modore added, " If you should capture them, it will be a
great thing for you."

They accordingly went on shore, and found that the colored
men of the island had already undertaken the enterprise.
Twenty-five of them had armed themselves, under the com-
mand of one of their own number, whose name was John
Brown. The second in command was Edward Gould, who
was afterwards a corporal in my own regiment. The rebel
party retreated before these men, and drew them into a
swamp. There was but one path, and the negroes entered
single file. The rebels lay behind a great log,, and fired upon
them. John Brown, the leader, fell dead within six feet of
the log, — probably the first black man who fell under arms in
the war, — several others were wounded, and the band of raw
recruits retreated ; as did also the rebels, in the opposite di-
rection. This was the first armed encounter, so far as I know,
between the rebels and their former slaves ; and it is worth
noticing that the attempt was a spontaneous thing, and not
accompanied by any white man. The men were not soldiers,
nor in uniform, though some of them afterwards enlisted in
Trowbridge's company.

The father of this John Brown was afterwards a soldier in
my regiment ; and, after his discharge for old age, was, for a

APPEXDIX.

275

time, my servant. " Uncle York," as we called him, was as
good a specimen of a saint as I have ever met, and was quite
the equal of Mrs. Stowe's " Uncle Tom." He was a fine-
looking old man, with dignified and courtly manners, and
his gray head was a perfect benediction, as he sat with us on
the platform at our Sunday meetings. He fully believed, to
his dying day, that the " John Brown Song " related to his
son, and to him only.

Trowbridge, after landing on the island, hunted the rebels
all day with his colored soldiers, and a posse of sailors. In
one place, he found by a creek a canoe, with a tar-kettle, and
a fire burning ; and it was afterwards discovered that, at that
very moment, the guerillas were hid in a dense palmetto
thicket, near by, and so eluded pursuit. The rebel leader
was one Miles Hazard, who had a plantation on the island,
and the party escaped at last through the aid of his old slave,
Henry, who found them a boat. One of my sergeants, Clar-
ence Kennon, who had not then escaped from slavery, was
present when they reached the main-land ; and he described
them as being tattered and dirty from head to foot, after their
efforts to escape their pursuers.

When the troops under my command occupied Jackson-
ville, Fla., in March of the following year, we found at the
railroad station, packed for departure, a box of papers, some
of them valuable. Among them was a letter from this very
Hazard to some friend, describing the perils of that adven-
ture, and saying, u If you wish to know hell before your time,
go to St. Simon's and be hunted ten days by niggers."

I have heard Trowbridge say that not one of his men
flinched ; and they seemed to take delight in the pursuit,
though the weather was very hot, and it was fearfully ex-
hausting.

This was early in August ; and the company remained two
months at St. Simon's, doing picket duty within hearing of
the rebel drums, though not another scout ever ventured on
the island, to their knowledge. Every Saturday Trowbridge

276

APPENDIX.

summoned the island people to drill with his Soldiers; and
they came in hordes, men, women, and children, in every
imaginable garb, to the number of one hundred and fifty or
two hundred.

His own men were poorly clothed and hardly shod at all ;
and, as no new supply of uniform was provided, they grew
more and more ragged. They got poor rations, and no pay ;
but they kept up their spirits. Every week or so some of
them would go on scouting excursions to the main-land ; one
scout used to go regularly to his old mother's hut, and keep
himself hid under her bed, while she collected for him all the
latest news of rebel movements. This man never came back
without bringing recruits with him.

At last the news came that Major-General Mitchell had
come to relieve General Hunter, and that Brigadier-General
Saxton had gone North; and Trowbridge went to Hilton
Head in some anxiety to see if he and his men were utterly
forgotten. He prepared a report, showing the services and
claims of his men, and took it with him. This was early in
October, 1862. The first person he met was Brigadier- Gen-
eral Saxton, who informed him that he had authority to or-
ganize five thousand colored troops, and that he (Trowbridge)
should be senior captain of the first regiment.

This was accordingly done ; and Company A of the First
South Carolina could honestly claim to date its enlistment
back to May, 1862, although they never got pay for that
period of their service, and their date of muster was Novem-
ber 15, 1862.

The above facts were written down from the narration of
Lieutenant-Colonel Trowbridge, who may justly claim to
have been the first white officer to recruit and command
colored troops in this war. He was constantly in command
of them from May 9, 1862, to February 9, 1866.

Except the Louisiana soldiers mentioned in the Introduc-
tion, — of whom no detailed reports have, I think, been pub-
lished, — my regiment was unquestionably the first mustered

APPENDIX.

277

into the service of the United States ; the first company mus-
ter bearing date, November 7, 1862, and the others following
in quick succession.

The second regiment in order of muster was the " First
Kansas Colored," dating from January 13, 1863. The first
enlistment in the Kansas regiment goes back to August
6, 1862 ; while the earliest technical date of enlistment in
my regiment was October 19, 1862, although, as was stated
above, one company really dated its organization back to
May, 1862. My muster as colonel dates back to Novem-
ber 10, 1862, several months earlier than any other of which
I am aware, among colored regiments, except that of Colonel
Stafford (First Louisiana Native Guards), September 27,
1862. Colonel Williams, of the u First Kansas Colored,"'
was mustered as lieutenant-colonel on January 13, 1863 ; as
colonel, March 8, 1863. These dates I have (with the other
facts relating to the regiment) from Colonel R. J. Hinton,
the first officer detailed to recruit it.

To sum up the above facts : my late regiment had unques-
tioned priority in muster over all but the Louisiana regi-
ments. It bad priority over those in the actual organization
and term of service of one company. On the other hand, the
Kansas regiment had the priority in average date of enlist-
ment, according to the muster-rolls.

The first detachment of the Second South Carolina Volun-
teers (Colonel Montgomery) went into camp at Port Royal
Island, February 23, 1863, numbering one hundred and
twenty men. I do not know the date of his muster ; it was
somewhat delayed, but was probably dated back to about
that time.

Recruiting for the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts (colored)
began on February 9, 1863, and the first squad went into
camp at Readville, Massachusetts, on February 21, 1863,
numbering twenty-five men. Colonel Shaw's commission (and
probably his muster) was dated April 17, 1863. (Report
of Adjutant-General of Massachusetts for 1863, pp. 896 - 899.)

These were the earliest colored regiments, so far as I know.

278

APPENDIX.

Appendix C.

GENEKAL SAXTON'S INSTRUCTIONS.

[The following are the instructions under which my regi-
ment was raised. It will be seen how unequivocal were the
provisions in respect to pay, upon which so long and weary a
contest was waged by our friends in Congress, before the ful-
filment of the contract could be secured.]

War Department, Washington City, D. C,
August 25, 1862.

General, — Your despatch of the 16th has this moment
been received. It is considered by the Department that the
instructions given at the time of your appointment were suf-
ficient to enable you to do what you have now requested
authority for doing. But in order to place your authority
beyond all doubt, you are hereby authorized and instructed,

1st, To organize in any convenient organization, by squads,
companies, battalions, regiments, and brigades, or otherwise,
colored persons of African descent for volunteer laborers, to a
number not exceeding fifty thousand, and muster them into
the service of the United States for the term of the war, at a
rate of compensation not exceeding five dollars per month
for common laborers, and eight dollars per month for me-
chanical or skilled laborers, and assign them to the Quarter-
master's Department, to do and perform such laborer's duty
as may be required during the present war, and to be subject
to the rules and articles of war.

2d. The laboring forces herein authorized shall, under
the order of the General-in-Chief, or of this Department, be
detailed by the Quartermaster-General for laboring service
with the armies of the United States ; and they shall be

APPENDIX.

279

clothed and subsisted, after enrolment, in the same manner as
other persons in the Quartermaster's service.

3d. In view of the small force under your command, and
the inability of the Government at the present time to in-
crease it, in order to guard the plantations and settlements
occupied by the United States from invasion, and protect
the inhabitants thereof from captivity and murder by the
enemy, you are also authorized to arm, uniform, equip, and
receive into the service of the United States, such number of
volunteers of African descent as you may deem expedient,
not exceeding five thousand, and may detail officers to in-
struct them in military drill, discipline, and duty, and to
command them. The persons so received into service, and
their officers, to be entitled to, and receive, the same pay and
rations as are allowed, by law, to volunteers in the service.

4th. You will occupy, if possible, all the islands and plan-
tations heretofore occupied by the Government, and secure
and harvest the crops, and cultivate and improve the planta-
tions.

5th. The population of African descent that cultivate the
lands and perform the labor of the rebels constitute a large
share of their military strength, and enable the white masters
to fill the rebel armies, and wage a cruel and murderous war
against the people of the Northern States. By reducing the
laboring strength of the rebels, their military power will be
reduced. You are therefore authorized by every means in
your power, to withdraw from the enemy their laboring force
and population, and to spare no effort, consistent with civilized
warfare, to weaken, harass, and annoy them, and to establish
the authority of the Government of the United States within
your Department.

6th. You may turn over to the navy any number of col-
ored volunteers that may be required for the naval service.

7 th. By recent act of Congress, all men and boys received
into the service of the United States, who may have been the
slaves of rebel masters, are, with their wives, mothers, and

280

APPENDIX.

children, declared to be forever free. You and all in your
command will so treat and regard them.

Yours truly,

EDWIN M. STANTON,

Secretary of War.

Brigadier-General Saxton.

Appendix D.

THE STEUGGLE FOR PAY.

The story of the attempt to cut down the pay of the col-
ored troops is too long, too complicated, and too humiliating,
to be here narrated. In the case of my regiment there
stood on record the direct pledge of the War Department to
General Saxton that their pay should be the same as that of
whites. So clear was this that our kind paymaster, Major
W. J. Wood, of New Jersey, took upon himself the responsi-
bility of paying the price agreed upon, for five months, till he
was compelled by express orders to reduce it from thirteen
dollars per month to ten dollars, and from that to seven dollars,
— the pay of quartermaster's men and day-laborers. At the
same time the " stoppages " from the pay-rolls for the loss of all
equipments and articles of clothing remained the same as for
all other soldiers, so that it placed the men in the most painful
and humiliating condition. Many of them had families to pro-
vide for, and between the actual distress, the sense of wrong,
the taunts of those who had refused to enlist from the fear of
being cheated, and the doubt how much farther the cheat
might be carried, the poor fellows were goaded to the utmost.
In the Third South Carolina regiment, Sergeant William
Walker was shot, by order of court-martial, for leading his com-
pany to stack arms before their captain's tent, on the avowed
ground that they were released from duty by the refusal
of the Government to fulfil its share of the contract. The
fear of such tragedies spread a cloud of solicitude over every

APPENDIX.

281

camp of colored soldiers for more than a year, and the follow-
ing series of letters will show through what wearisome labors
the final triumph of justice was secured. In these labors the
chief credit must be given to my admirable Adjutant, Lieu-
tenant G. W. Dewhurst. In the matter of bounty justice is
not yet obtained ; there is a discrimination against those col-
ored soldiers who were slaves on April 19, 1861. Every offi-
cer, who through indolence or benevolent design claimed on
his muster-rolls that all his men had been free on that day,
secured for them the bounty ; while every officer who, like my-
self, obeyed orders and told the truth in each case, saw his
men and their families suffer for it, as I have done. A bill to
abolish this distinction was introduced by Mr. Wilson at the
last session, but failed to pass the House. It is hoped that
next winter may remove this last vestige of the weary con-
test.

To show how persistently and for how long a period these
claims had to be urged on Congress, I reprint such of my
own printed letters on the subject as are now in my possession.
There are one or two of which I have no copies. It was
especially in the Senate that it was so difficult to get justice
done ; and our thanks will always be especially due to Hon.
Charles Sumner and Hon. Henry Wilson for their advocacy
of our simple rights. The records of those sessions will show
who advocated the fraud.

To the Editor of the New York Tribune :

Sir, — No one can overstate the intense anxiety with
which the officers of colored regiments in this Department
are awaiting action from Congress in regard to arrears of pay
of their men.

It is not a matter of dollars and cents only ; it is a ques-
tion of common honesty, — whether the United States Gov-
ernment has sufficient integrity for the fulfilment of an ex-
plicit business contract.

The public seems to suppose that all required justice will

282

APPENDIX.

be done by the passage of a bill equalizing the pay of all sol-
diers for the future. Rut, so far as my own regiment is con-
cerned, this is but half the question. My men have been
nearly sixteen months in the service, and for them the imme-
diate issue is the question of arrears.

They understand the matter thoroughly, if the public do
not. Every one of them knows that he volunteered under an
explicit written assurance from the War Department that he
should have the pay of a white soldier. He knows that for
five months the regiment received that pay, after which it
was cut down from the promised thirteen dollars per month
to ten dollars, for some reason to him inscrutable.

He does not know — for I have not yet dared to tell the
men — that the Paymaster has been already reproved by the
Pay Department for fulfilling even in part the pledges of the
War Department ; that at the next payment the ten dollars
are to be further reduced to seven ; and that, to crown the
whole, all the previous overpay is to be again deducted or
61 stopped " from the future wages, thus leaving them a little
more than a dollar a month for six months to come, unless
Congress interfere !

Yet so clear were the terms of the contract that Mr. So-
licitor Whiting, having examined the original instructions
from the War Department issued to Brigadier- General Sax-
ton, Military Governor, admits to me (under date of Decem-
ber 4, 1863,) that " the faith of the Government was thereby
pledged to every officer and soldier enlisted under that call."

He goes on to express the generous confidence that " the
pledge will be honorably fulfilled." I observe that every one
at the North seems to feel the same confidence, but that,
meanwhile, the pledge is unfulfilled. Nothing is said in Con-
gress about fulfilling it. I have not seen even a proposition in
Congress to pay the colored soldiers, from date of enlistment,
the same pay with white soldiers ; and yet anything short of
that is an unequivocal breach of contract, so far as this regi-
ment is concerned.

APPENDIX.

283

Meanwhile, the land sales are beginning, and there is dan-
ger of every foot of land being sold from beneath my sol-
diers' feet, because they have not the petty sum which Gov-
ernment first promised, and then refused to pay.

The officers' pay comes promptly and fully enough, and
this makes the position more embarrassing. For how are we
to explain to the men the mystery that Government can af-
ford us a hundred or two dollars a month, and yet must keep
back six of the poor thirteen which it promised them ? Does
it not naturally suggest the most cruel suspicions in regard to
us ? And yet nothing but their childlike faith in their offi-
cers, and in that incarnate soul of honor, General Saxton,
has sustained their faith, or kept them patient, thus far.

There is nothing mean or mercenary about these men in
general. Convince them that the Government actually
needs their money, and they would serve it barefooted and
on half-rations, and without a dollar — for a time. But, un-
fortunately, they see white soldiers beside them, whom they
know to be in no way their superiors for any military service,
receiving hundreds of dollars for re-enlisting from this im-
poverished Government, which can only pay seven dollars
out of thirteen to its black regiments. And they see, on the
other hand, those colored men who refused to volunteer as
soldiers, and who have found more honest paymasters than
the United States Government, now exulting in well-filled
pockets, and able to buy the little homesteads the soldiers
need, and to turn the soldiers' families into the streets. Is
this a school for self-sacrificing patriotism ?

I should not speak thus urgently were it not becoming
manifest that there is to be no promptness of action in Con-
gress, even as regards the future pay of colored soldiers, —
and that there is especial danger of the whole matter of ar-
rears going by default. Should it be so, it will be a repudia-
tion more ungenerous than any which Jefferson Davis advo-
cated or Sydney Smith denounced. It will sully with dis-
honor all the nobleness of this opening page of history, and

284

APPENDIX,

fix upon the North a brand of meanness worse than either
Southerner or Englishman has yet dared to impute. The
mere delay in the fulfilment of this contract has already in-
flicted untold suffering, has impaired discipline, has relaxed
loyalty, and has begun to implant a feeling of sullen distrust
in the very regiments whose early career solved the problem
of the nation, created a new army, and made peaceful eman-
cipation possible.

T. W. HIGGINSON,
Colonel commanding 1st S. C. Vols.
Beaufort, S. C, January 22, 1864.

Headquarters First South Carolina Volunteersv
Beaufort, S. C, Sunday, February 14, 1864.

To the Editor of the New York Times :

May I venture to call your attention to the great and
cruel injustice which is impending over the brave men of this
regiment ?

They have been in military service for over a year, having
volunteered, every man, without a cent of bounty, on the
written pledge of the War Department that they should re-
ceive the same pay and rations with white soldiers.

This pledge is contained in the written instructions of
Brigadier-General Saxton, Military Governor, dated August
25, 1862. Mr. Solicitor Whiting, having examined those in-
structions, admits to me that " the faith of the Government
was thereby pledged to every officer and soldier under that
call."

Surely, if this fact were understood, every man in the na-
tion would see that the Government is degraded by using for
a year the services of the brave soldiers, and then repudi-
ating the contract under which they were enlisted. This is
what will be done, should Mr. Wilson's bill, legalizing the
back pay of the army, be defeated.

We presume too much on the supposed ignorance of these
men. I have never yet found a man in my regiment so
stupid as not to know when he was cheated. If fraud pro-

APPENDIX.

285

ceeds from Government itself, so much the worse, for this
strikes at the foundation of all rectitude, all honor, all obliga-
tion.

Mr. Senator Fessenden said, in the debate on Mr. Wilson's
bill, January 4, that the Government was not bound by the
unauthorized promises of irresponsible recruiting officers.
But is the Government itself an irresponsible recruiting offi-
cer ? and if men have volunteered in good faith on the writ-
ten assurances of the Secretary of War, is not Congress
bound, in all decency, either to fulfil those pledges or to dis-
band the regiments ?

Mr. Senator Doolittle argued in the same debate that white
soldiers should receive higher pay than black ones, because
the families of the latter were often supported by Government.
What an astounding statement of fact is this ! In the white
regiment in which I was formerly an officer (the Massachu-
setts Fifty-First) nine tenths of the soldiers' families, in addi-
tion to the pay and bounties, drew regularly their " State
aid." Among my black soldiers, with half-pay and no boun-
ty, not a family receives any aid. Is there to be no limit, no
end to the injustice we heap upon this unfortunate people ?
Cannot even the fact of their being in arms for the nation,
liable to die any day in its defence, secure them ordinary jus-
tice ? Is the nation so poor, and so utterly demoralized by
its pauperism, that after it has had the lives of these men, it
must turn round to filch six dollars of the monthly pay which
the Secretary of War promised to their widows ? It is even
so, if the excuses of Mr. Fessenden and Mr. Doolittle are to
be accepted by Congress and by the people.

Yery respectfully, your obedient servant,

T. W. HIGGINSON,
Colonel commanding 1st S. C. Volunteers.

286

APPENDIX.

NEW VICTORIES AND OLD WRONGS.

To the Editors of the Evening Post :

On the 2d of July, at James Island, S. C, a battery was
taken by three regiments, under the following circumstances :

The regiments were the One Hundred and Third New
York (white), the Thirty-Third United States (formerly
First South Carolina Volunteers), and the Fifty-Fifth Massa-
chusetts, the two last being colored. They marched at one
A. M., by the flank, in the above order, hoping to surprise the
battery. As usual the rebels were prepared for them, and
opened upon them as they were deep in one of those almost
impassable Southern marshes. The One Hundred and Third
New York, which had previously been in twenty battles, was
thrown into confusion ; the Thirty-Third United States did
better, being behind ; the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts being in
the rear, did better still. All three formed in line, when
Colonel Hartwell, commanding the brigade, gave the order to
retreat. The officer commanding the Fifty-Fifth Massachu-
setts, either misunderstanding the order, or hearing it counter-
manded, ordered his regiment to charge. This order was at
once repeated by Major Trowbridge, commanding the Thirty-
Third United States, and by the commander of the One
Hundred and Third New York, so that the three regiments
reached the fort in reversed order, The color-bearers of the
Thirty-Third United States and of the Fifty-Fifth Massachu-
setts had a race to be first in, the latter winning. The One
Hundred and Third New York entered the battery immedi-
ately after.

These colored regiments are two of the five which were en-
listed in South Carolina and Massachusetts, under the written
pledge of the War Department that they should have the
same pay and allowances as white soldiers. That pledge has
been deliberately broken by the War Department, or by Con-
gress, or by both, except as to the short period, since last New-

APPENDIX.

287

Year's Day. Every one of those killed in this action from
these two colored regiments — under a fire before which the
veterans of twenty battles recoiled — died defrauded by the
Government of nearly one half his petty pay.

Mr. Fessenden, who defeated in the Senate the bill for the
fulfilment of the contract with these soldiers, is now Secretary
of the Treasury. Was the economy of saving six dollars
per man worth to the Treasury the ignominy of the repudia-
tion ?

Mr. Stevens, of Pennsylvania, on his triumphal return to
his constituents, used to them this language : " He had no
doubt whatever as to the final result of the present contest
between liberty and slavery. The only doubt he had was
whether the nation had yet been satisfactorily chastised for
their cruel oppression of a harmless and long-suffering race.,,
Inasmuch as it was Mr. Stevens himself who induced the
House of Representatives, most unexpectedly to all, to defeat
the Senate bill for the fulfilment of the national contract with
these soldiers, I should think he had excellent reasons for the
doubt.

Very respectfully.

T. W. HIGGIXSOX,
Colonel 1st S. C. Vols, (now 33d U. S.)

July 10, 1864.

To the Editor of the New York Tribune :

No one can possibly be so weary of reading of the wrongs
done by Government toward the colored soldiers as am I of
writing about them. This is my only excuse for intruding
on your columns again.

By an order of the War Department, dated August 1,
1864, it is at length ruled that colored soldiers shall be paid
the full pay of soldiers from date of enlistment, provided they
were free on April 19, 1861, — not otherwise; and this distinc-
tion is to be noted on the pay-rolls. In other words, if one half
of a company escaped from slavery on April 18, 1861, they
are to be paid thirteen dollars per month and allowed three

APPENDIX.

dollars and a half per month for clothing. If the other half
were delayed two days, they receive seven dollars per month
and are allowed three dollars per month for precisely the
same articles of clothing. If one of the former class is made
first sergeant, his pay is put up to twenty-one dollars per
month ; but if he escaped two days later, his pay is still esti-
mated at seven dollars-.

It had not occurred to me that anything could make the
pay-rolls of these regiments more complicated than at pres-
ent, or the men more rationally discontented. I had not the
ingenuity to imagine such an order. Yet it is no doubt in
accordance with the spirit, if not with the letter, of the final
bill which was adopted by Congress under the lead of Mr.
Thaddeus Stevens.

The ground taken by Mr. Stevens apparently was that the
country might honorably save a few dollars by docking the
promised pay of those colored soldiers whom the war had
made free. But the Government should have thought of this be-
fore it made the contract with these men and received their ser-
vices. When the War Department instructed Brigadier-
General Saxton, August 25, 1862, to raise five regiments of
negroes in South Carolina, it was known very well that the
men so enlisted had only recently gained their freedom. But
the instructions said : " The persons so received into service,
and their officers, to be entitled to and receive the same pay
and rations as are allowed by law to volunteers in the ser-
vice." Of this passage Mr. Solicitor Whiting wrote to me :
" I have no hesitation in saying that the faith of the Govern-
ment was thereby pledged to every officer and soldier en-
listed under that call." Where is that faith of the Govern-
ment now ?

The men who enlisted under the pledge were volunteers,
every one ; they did not get their freedom by enlisting ; they
had it already. They enlisted to serve the Government,
trusting in its honor. Now the nation turns upon them and
says : Your part of the contract is fulfilled ; we have had

APPENDIX.

289

your services. If you can show that you had previously been
free for a certain length of time, we will fulfil the other side
of the contract. If not, we repudiate it Help yourselves,
if you can.

In other words, a freedman (since April 19, 1861) has no
rights which a white man is bound to respect. He is incapa-
ble of making a contract. No man is bound by a contract
made with him. Any employer, following the example of the
United States Government, may make with him a written
agreement, receive his services, and then withhold the wages.
He has no motive to honest industry, or to honesty of any
kind. He is virtually a slave, and nothing else, to the end of
time.

Under this order, the greater part of the Massachusetts
colored regiments will get their pay at last, and be able to
take their wives and children out of the almshouses, to which,
as Governor Andrew informs us, the gracious charity of the
nation has consigned so many. For so much I am grateful.
But toward my regiment, which had been in service and
under fire, months before a Northern colored soldier was re-
cruited, the policy of repudiation has at last been officially
adopted. There is no alternative for the officers of South
Carolina regiments but to wait for another session of Con-
gress, and meanwhile, if necessary, act as executioners for
those soldiers who, like Sergeant Walker, refuse to fulfil
their share of a contract where the Government has openly
repudiated the other share. If a year's discussion, however,
has at length secured the arrears of pay for the Northern
colored regiments, possibly two years may secure it for the
Southern.

T. W. HIGGIXSOX,
Colonel 1st S. C Vols, (now 3Zd U. 8.J

August 12, 1864.

13*

s

290

APPENDIX.

JUSTICE NOT DONE YET.

To the Editor of the New York Tribune :

Sir, — An impression seems to prevail in the newspapers
that the lately published " opinion " of Attorney- General
Bates (dated in July last) at length secures justice to the
colored soldiers in respect to arrears of pay. This impres-
sion is a mistake.

That " opinion " does indeed show that there never was
any excuse for refusing them justice ; but it does not, of
itself, secure justice to them.

It logically covers the whole ground, and was doubtless in-
tended to do so ; but technically it can only apply to those
soldiers who were free at the commencement of the war.
For it was only about these that the Attorney- General was
officially consulted.

Under this decision the Northern colored regiments have
already got their arrears of pay, — and those few members
of the Southern regiments who were free on April 19, 1861.
But in the South Carolina regiments this only increases the
dissatisfaction among the remainder, who volunteered under
the same pledge of full pay from the War Department, and who
do not see how the question of their status at some antecedent
period can affect an express contract. If, in 1862, they were
free enough to make a bargain with, they were certainly free
enough to claim its fulfilment.

The unfortunate decision of Mr. Solicitor Whiting, under
which all our troubles arose, is indeed superseded by the rea-
soning of the Attorney-General. But unhappily that does
not remedy the evil, which is already embodied in an Act of
Congress, making the distinction between those who were
and those who were not free on April 19, 1861.

The question is, whether those who were not free at the
breaking out of the war are still to be defrauded, after the
Attorney-General has shown that there is no excuse for de-
frauding them ?

APPENDIX.

291

I call it defrauding, because it is not a question of abstract
justice, but of the fulfilment of an express contract.

I have never met with a man, whatever might be his opin-
ions as to the enlistment of colored soldiers, who did not ad-
mit that if they had volunteered under the direct pledge of
full pay from the War Department, they were entitled to
every cent of it. That these South Carolina regiments had
such direct pledge is undoubted, for it still exists in writing,
signed by the Secretary of War, and has never been dis-
puted.

It is therefore the plain duty of Congress to repeal the law
which discriminates between different classes of colored sol-
diers, or at least so to modify it as to secure the fulfilment of
actual contracts. Until this is done the nation is still dis-
graced. The few thousand dollars in question are nothing
compared with the absolute wrong done and the discredit it
has brought, both here and in Europe, upon the national
name.

T. W. HIGGIXSON,
Late Col 1st S. C. Vols, (now 3d U. 8. C T.J

Newport, R. L, December 8,1864.

PETITION.

« To the Honorable Senate and House of Representatives of the
United Slates in Congress assembled : —

" The undersigned respectfully petitions for the repeal of
so much of Section IV. of the Act of Congress making ap-
propriations for the army and approved July 4, 1864, as
makes a distinction, in respect of pay due, between those
colored soldiers who were free on or before April 19, 1861,
and those who were not free until a later date ;

" Or at least that there may be such legislation as to secure
the fulfilment of pledges of full pay from date of enlistment,
made by direct authority of the War Department to the

292

APPENDIX.

colored soldiers of South Carolina, on the faith of which
pledges they enlisted.

" THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON,
Late Colonel 1st S. C Vols, (now 33c7 U. S. C Vols.)
" Newport, B. L, December 9, 1864."

Appendix E.

FAREWELL ADDRESS OF LT.-COL. TROWBRIDGE.

Headquarters 33d United States Colored Troops, late 1st
South Carolina Volunteers,

Morris Island, S. C,

February 9, 1866.

General Orders, No. 1.

Comrades, — The hour is at hand when we must separate
forever, and nothing can ever take from us the pride we feel,
when we look back upon the history of the First South Caro-
lina Volunteers, — the first black regiment that ever bore
arms in defence of freedom on the continent of America.

On the ninth day of May, 1862, at which time there
were nearly four millions of your race in a bondage sanc-
tioned by the laws of the land, and protected by our flag, —
on that day, in the face of floods of prejudice, that wellnigh
deluged every avenue to manhood and true liberty, you came
forth to do battle for your country and your kindred. For
long and weary months without pay, or even the privilege of
being recognized as soldiers, you labored on, only to be dis-
banded and sent to your homes, without even a hope of
reward. And when our country, necessitated by the deadly
struggle with armed traitors, finally granted you the opportu-
nity again to come forth in defence of the nation's life, the
alacrity with which you responded to the call gave abundant
evidence of your readiness to strike a manly blow for the
liberty of your race. And from that little band of hopeful.

APPENDIX,

293

trusting, and brave men, who gathered at Camp Saxton, on
Port Royal Island, in the fall of 1862, amidst the terrible
prejudices that then surrounded us, has grown an army of a
hundred and forty thousand black soldiers, whose valor and
heroism has won for your race a name which will live as long
as the undying pages of history shall endure ; and by whose
efforts, united with those of the white man, armed rebellion
has been conquered, the millions of bondmen have been
emancipated, and the fundamental law of the land has been
so altered as to remove forever the possibility of human
slavery being re-established within the borders of redeemed
America. The flag of our fathers, restored to its rightful
significance, now floats over every foot of our territory, from
Maine to California, and beholds only freemen ! The preju-
dices which formerly existed against you are wellnigh rooted
out.

Soldiers, you have done your duty, and acquitted your-
selves like men, who, actuated by such ennobling motives,
could not fail ; and as the result of your fidelity and obedi-
ence, you have won your freedom. And O, how great the
reward !

It seems fitting to me that the last hours of our existence
as a regiment should be passed amidst the unmarked graves
of your comrades, — at Fort Wagner. Near you rest the
bones of Colonel Shaw, buried by an enemy's hand, in the
same grave with his black soldiers, who fell at his side ; where,
in future, your children's children will come on pilgrimages to
do homage to the ashes of those that fell in this glorious
struggle.

The flag which was presented to us by the Rev. George B.
Cheever and his congregation, ef New York City, on the first
of January, 1863, — the day when Lincoln's immortal procla-
mation of freedom was given to the world, — and which you
have borne so nobly through the war, is now to be rolled up
forever, and deposited in our nation's capital. And while
there it shall rest, with the battles in which you have par-

294

APPENDIX.

ticipated inscribed upon its folds, it will be a source of pride
to us all to remember that it has never been disgraced by a
cowardly faltering in the hour of danger or polluted by
a traitor's touch.

Now that you are to lay aside your arms, and return to the
peaceful avocations of life, I adjure you, by the associations
and history of the past, and the love you bear for your liber-
ties, to harbor no feelings of hatred toward your former
masters, but to seek in the paths of honesty, virtue, sobriety,
and industry, and by a. willing obedience to the laws of the
land, to grow up to the full stature of American citizens.
The church, the school-house, and the right forever to be free
are now secured to you, and every prospect before you is full
of hope and encouragement. The nation guarantees to you
full protection and justice, and will require from you in return
that respect for the laws and orderly deportment which will
prove to every one your right to all the privileges of freemen.

To the officers of the regiment I would say, your toils are
ended, your mission is fulfilled, and we separate forever. The
fidelity, patience, and patriotism with which you have dis-
charged your duties, to your men and to your country, entitle
you to a far higher tribute than any words of thankfulness
which I can give you from the bottom of my heart. You
will find your reward in the proud conviction that the cause
for which you have battled so nobly has been crowned with
abundant success.

Officers and soldiers of the Thirty-Third United States
Colored Troops, once the First South Carolina Volunteers,
I bid you all farewell !

By order of Lt.-Col. C. T. Trowbridge, commanding
Regiment.

E. W. HYDE,
Lieutenant and Acting Adjutant.

INDEX.

Adams, C. F., Hon., 25.
Aiken, William, Gov., 170.
Alls ton, Adam, Corp., 93.
Andrew, J. A., Gov , 3, 71, 224, 225,
289.

Bates, Edward, Hon., 290.
Beach, H. A., Lt.,271, 272.
Beauregard, W. T., Gen., 22, 57.
Beecher, H. W., Rev., 256.
Bell, Louis, Col., 236.
Bennett, W. T., Gen., 265, 269.
Bezzard, James, 83.
Bigelow, L. F., Lt., 2.
Billings, L., Lt.-Col., 269.
Bingham, J. M., Lt., 176, 270.
Brannan, J. M.,Gen., 98.
Brisbane, W. H., 40.
Bronson, William, Sergt., 273.
Brown, A. B., Lt., 272,
Brown, John, 4, 22, 41, 60.
Brown, John (colored), 274.
Brown, York, 275.
Bryant, J. E., Capt., 230, 231.
Budd, Lt., 68.

Burnside, A. E., Gen., 33,34.
Butler, B. F., Gen., 1.

Calhoun, J. C, Capt., 151,
Chamberlin, G. B., Lt., 185, 270.
Chamberlin, Mrs., 242.
Cheever, G. B., Rev., 293.
Child, A., Lt., 271, 272.
Clark, Capt., 70, 76, 92.
Clifton, Capt., 90, 91.
Clinton, J. B., Lt , 170.
Corwin, B. R., Maj., 115, 122.
Crandall, W. B., Surg., 269.
Crum, Simon, Corp., 266.
Cushman, James, 2o6.

Danilson, W. H., Maj., 80, 270.
Davis, C. I , Lt., 271.
Davis, R. M., Lt., 272.
Davis, AV. W. H., Gen., 168.
Dewhurst, G. W., Adj"t., 270.
Dewhurst, Mrs., 242.
Dollv, George, Capt., 179 , 270.
Doolittle, J. R., Hon. 285.
Duncan, Lt. Comr., 100, 103.
Dupont, S. F., Admiral, 67, 78, 89, 100,
135.

Dutch, Capt., 170.

Fessenden, W. P., Hon., 285, 287.

Finnegan, Gen., 108.

Fisher, J., Lt., 271.

Fowler, J. H., Chap., 40, 113, 231, 270.

Fremont, J. C, Gen., 23, 42.

French, J., Rev., 40, 118.

Furman, J. T., Lt., 272.

Gage, F. D., Mrs., 41.

Garrison, W. L.,249.

Gaston, William, Lt., 271.

Gillmore, Q A., Gen., 167, 168, 183,

235, 237, 240.
Goldsborough, Commodore, 243, 274.
Goodell, J. B.,Lt.,2.
Goodrich, F. S., Lt., 271, 272.
Gould, E., Corp., 274.
Gould, F.M.,Lt., 272.
Greene, Sergt., 121.

Hallett, Capt., 65, 66,274.
Hallowell, E. N., Gen., 225, 242, 244.
Hartwell, A. S., Gen., 286.
Hawks, J. M., Surg., 269.
Hawley, J. R., Gen., 81, 93, 107.
Hayne, H. E., Sergt., 265-
Hazard, Miles, 275.
Heasley, A., Capt., 230, 270.
Heron, Charles, 122.
Hinton, R. J., Col., 277.
Holden, Lt., 122.

Hooper, C. W., Capt., 155, 237, 270,
271, 272.

Hughes, Lt. Comr., 78, 81, 82.

Hunter, David, Gen., 2, 10, 15, 43, 57,
60, 61, 64, 97, 98, 119, 126, 129, 135,
136, 151,168, 272,273,276.

Hyde, E. W., Lt., 271, 272, 294.

Hyde, W. H., Lt., 76, 271.

Jackson, A. W. , Capt. , 73, 76, 270, 271,
272.

James, William, Capt., 84, 170, 270.
Johnston, J. F., Lt., 271.
Jones, Lt., 76, 81.

Kemble, Mrs., 67, 274.
Kennon, Clarence, Corp., 275.
King, T. B.,67.

Lambkin, Prince, Corp , 109.
[ Lincoln, Abraham, Pres., 23, 34, 252.
i Long, Thomas, Corp., 256.

296

INDEX.

Manning, B. H., Lt, 272.
Mclntyre, H., Sergt., 71, 72, 252.
Meeker, L., Maj., 117, 122.
Merriam, E. C, Capt., 270, 271.
Metcalf, L. W., Capt., 71, 73, 84, 231,
270.

MiUer family, 247.
Minor, T. T., Surg., 73, 269.
Mitchell, 0. M., Gen., 276.
Montgomery, James, Col., 104, 107, 114,

115, 126, 127, 169, 277.
Moses, Acting Master, 68.

O'Neil, J. B.,Lt.,271.
Osborne, Lt., 231.

Parker, C. E.,Lt.,271.

Parker, N. G., Capt., 270, 271, 272.

Parsons, William, 75.

Phillips, Wendell, 112, 249.

Pomeroy, J. , Lt , 271.

Randolph, W. J., Capt., 114, 270.
Rivers, Prince, Sergt., 41, 57, 59, 62,

89, 261, 265.
Bobbins, E. W., Capt., 270, 271, 272.
Roberts, Samuel, 243.
Rogers, J. S., Capt., 94, 180, 266, 270.
Rogers, Seth, Surg., 76, 94, 269.
Rust, J. D , Col., 119, 120, 122, 128.

Sammis, Col. , 27.

Sampson, W. W., Capt., 176, 270, 271.

Saxton, M. W., Lt., 272.

Saxton, Rufus, Gen., 2, 3, 7, 8, 16, 34,
35, 37, 39, 41, 42, 48, 52, 60, 61, 64,
75, 93, 97, 100, 143, 168, 225, 226,
229, 234, 236, 237, 241, 244,248,273,
276, 278, 280, 282, 284, 288.

Searles, J. M , Lt., 272.

Sears, Capt., 82.

Selvage, J. W., Lt., 272.

Serrell, E. W., Col., 272.

Seward, W. H., 251.

Seymour, T. Gen., 129, 240.

Shaw, R. G., Col., 176, 224, 225, 277,
293

Sherman, W. T., Gen., 176, 263.
Showalter, Lt.-Col., 124.
Simmons, London, Corpl., 260.
Small, Robert, Capt., 7, 65.
Smith, Mr., 92.
Sprague, A. B. R., Col., 2.
Stafford, Col., 277.

Stanton, E. M., Hon., 280.

Steedman, Capt., 127.

Stevens, Capt., 68.

Stevens, Thaddeus, Hon., 287, 288.

Stickney, Judge, 41, 97, 107.

Stockdale, W., Lt., 271.

Stone, H. A., Lt., 271, 272.

Strong, J. D. , Lt.-Col., 65, 90, 122, 178,

181,182,269.
Stuard, E. S., Surg., 269.
Sumner, Charles, Hon., 281.
Sunderland, Col. , 106.
Sutton, Robert, Sergt. t 41, 62, 70, 71,

75,77,82,83,86,94,198.

Thibadeau, J. H., Capt., 270.

Thompson, J. M., Capt., 270, 271.

Tirrell,A. H.,Lt.,272.

Tonking, J. H., Capt., 270.

Trowbridge, C. T., Lt.-Col. , 65, 94, 115,
168, 169, 172, 174, 175, 182, 237,243,
247, 258, 261, 265, 269, 270, 272, 274,
276, 286, 292, 294,

Trowbridge, J. A., Lt., 271.

Tubman, Harriet, 11.

Twichell, J. P., Lt.-Col. 117, 122.

Vendross, Robert, Corp., 265.

Walker, G. D., Capt., 270.
Walker, William, Sergt., 280, 289.
Washington, William, 21.
Watson, Lt., 100.
Webster, Daniel, Hon., 1.
Weld, S. M.,225.
West, H. C, Lt., 271.
West, J. B.,Lt.,271.
White, E. P., Lt.,271.
White, N. S., Capt., 270, 271, 272.
Whiting, William, Hon., 282, 284, 288,
290.

Whitney, H. A., Maj., 176, 230, 269,
270.

Wiggins, Cyrus, 266.

Williams, Harry, Sergt., 230.

Williams, Col., 277.

Wilson, Henry, Hon., 281, 284, 285.

Wilson family, 246.

Wood, H.,Lt., 271,272.

Wood, W. J., Maj., 280.

Wright, Gen., 98, 104.

Wright, Fanny, 247.

Zachos, Dr., 18.

THE END.

Cambridge : Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.

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